


Words, Strings and Butterfly Wings

by Kimberly_T



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Minor Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 63,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3678357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimberly_T/pseuds/Kimberly_T
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Circus storyline is changed from the beginning to well past the end, by just one small word spoken somewhere in between.   And a certain Earl Phantomhive will never be quite the same again...</p>
<p>Chapter 8: the Very Long Night</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Effect

 

**Words, Strings and Butterfly Wings**

 

Once upon a time in one particular version of 19th Century England, one little girl said one little word… a word that she didn’t say in another world, upon meeting a black-clad butler and his young master. It was just one small word, that stirred no more air than could be felt by the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings. But as in the old saying of butterflies and hurricanes, that one word spoken at just that moment, had effects that rippled back and forth in Time and changed several lives forever.

  

**Chapter 1: The First Effect**

 

The Earl of Phantomhive was always the Watchdog for the reigning Queen or King of England; that was how it had been for centuries, with each head of the family doing whatever it took to keep the forces of the Underworld in check and out of Polite Society, and to investigate matters as ordered by His or Her Majesty. Those few who know of the Phantomhive line's grim duty, know that "whatever it takes" can encompass tasks that most people would never dream of doing, from the cold-blooded execution of an Underworld figure that's gone too far, to wresting needed information from those who have it by use of bribes, threats or blackmail... whatever it takes. Including, for the current Earl Phantomhive, going undercover in a circus to find the connection between the Noah's Ark Circus and dozens of children who had been kidnapped from their homes along the circus's touring route.

 

After passing the circus's tryouts (Ciel managing to do so only with Sebastian's covert and, so far as tightrope walking was concerned, _very painful_ help) and being introduced to everyone as newcomers 'Black' and 'Smile', the Queen's Watchdog and his demon butler were given a tour of the backstage area by Joker, the leader of the circus troupe. The tour ended at the practice tent where all the newcomers practiced and improved their skills, or created and refined their acts. When Joker was called to the Big Top to perform, Dagger took his place a few scant minutes later, interrupting Ciel and Sebastian's low-voiced conversation about the missing children with a cheerful order of "Hey, don't stretch so sluggishly, you guys!"

 

Another circus member practicing in the tent called out in surprise, "Boss Dagger, what about your performance?"

 

"I was up first today! It went great!" Dagger told the other man with an easy grin. "I'm already done, so I'll be supervising your practice." Then he turned to 'Smile' and said, "First we gotta decide on what your act will be. What're you hoping for?"

 

Ciel said honestly, "An act that doesn't involve using my body for something like tightrope walking would be good... Seriously, anything besides that," and he was _sure_ he could hear Sebastian quietly snickering in agreement.

 

"Yeah, you do seem a little weak for it," Dagger agreed (though Ciel could wish he hadn't agreed _quite_ so quickly and readily.) "Well then, I'll be teaching Smile all the finer points of knife-throwing. What about you, Black?"

 

"I don't have any requests in particular," Sebastian said rather carelessly. Ciel gave him a warning glare, a silent reminder that he should show at least a little enthusiasm about performing, before these circus people started wondering why he’d wanted to join their troupe in the first place.

 

"You've got good reflexes, don't you," Dagger observed, probably remembering the way 'Black' had not only dodged but _caught_ his blades in midair yesterday evening. "So if there's something you see and think you can handle, give it a try; I’ll be watching, so show me what you can do!"

 

"Yes!" was all Sebastian said before he dashed off... and then proceeded to out-perform everybody else in the practice tent! From the flying trapeze, to juggling, to pole climbing, to passing through rings of fire, to the high wire and the trampoline... Sebastian performed every single stunt like he'd been working in the circus all his life instead of less than a day, while everyone gaped at him in increasing awe and Ciel became increasingly dismayed. This was taking 'enthusiasm' way too far!

 

Dagger finally yelped, "Enough, _enough_!!" when Sebastian started to take a stab at sword-swallowing (no pun intended). For which Ciel was extremely grateful; that idiot demon probably would have stuck the entire sword down his gullet, and then gone on to another stunt without taking it out!

 

Sebastian obediently stopped, and let everyone else in the practice tent come up to him and express their amazement. Which gave Ciel the opportunity to sidle in behind his butler and hiss under the cover of their congratulations, "You're getting too carried away! Act a little more like a newcomer!"

 

Sebastian gave him a bare glance of acknowledgment, but before he could do or say anything more, Dagger said smugly, "Man, this is too much! Another super newcomer's appeared?   Who can do at least _twice_ as much as the last one!"

 

"See, he already has his eye on you!" Ciel hissed to Sebastian. Yes, they wanted to become first-tier members quickly so they could investigate more easily, but if Sebastian did too many unbelievable stunts, he could end up being exposed as an inhuman creature!

 

But it must have been that the praise he'd already garnered from everyone else around them had gone to that stupid demon's head, because now he was _blatantly ignoring_ his master's words, instead repeating back to Dagger with a mild frown, "Another super newcomer?"

 

"Yeah, the first one joined us just over a month ago, He does trapeze, trampoline, and even a little high wire work, but you've still got 'im beat for juggling, pole climbing and playing wi' fire!" Dagger said as he pointed off to the right side of the tent, where the trapeze was set up. And then added, "Oi, no, over on the trapeze!" because Sebastian had turned to the left side of the tent, and was staring fixedly up at the empty high wire. Then Dagger gaily called out, "Hey, Falco, you got some real competition!"

 

"Oooh, he really does," giggled a girl who had been juggling earlier, as a well-muscled man in a colorful leotard responded to Dagger's call by climbing down from the trapeze and trotting over. "Black is even better-looking than Falco!" Two other girls nodded and agreed with her, but that didn't stop them from turning and smiling at the trapeze artist when he came up to the group.

 

Falco turned out to be a man in his mid-twenties, with a short curly mane of black hair, an olive skin tone, rugged features with a nose that appeared to have been broken once some time ago, and a definite Italian accent to his voice as he introduced himself and asked 'Black', "Which circus do you come from?"

 

"Which circus? You appear to be mistaken, sir, or simply misinformed," Sebastian said with a polite bow--and he glanced again at the empty high wire as he straightened up. "Up to the moment of my joining the circus, I have been merely a butler."

 

"A butler? A servant stuck inside in a fancy noble's house?" Falco snorted, looking offended. "Don't sell me a castle in the air. I saw your moves, and on every stunt, you are too swift and sure for a beginner! To have that assurance when so far off the ground, or when so close to fire, that only comes from much practice; for so many different acts, it must be from _years_ of practice! Otherwise you would not be human!"

 

(Only the fact that they were surrounded by strangers kept Ciel from reaching out to slap Sebastian upside the head while snarling, "Told you so!")

 

Falco continued, "I come from the Zoppè Family Circus in Italy. I do not say why I came here to England because it is no one else's business, but I do not hide the fact that I was born to the life in tents and wagons. So now, tell the truth, ey? Which circus are you from?"

 

Fortunately, Ciel's butler wasn't a _total_ idiot. Sebastian bowed to Falco again as he said, “I swear to you upon my life, that for the last three years I have been employed as a butler. However, it is true that prior to that, my circumstances were quite different. Please understand, I do not speak of that time with strangers. But if you happen to discover what my circumstances were prior to becoming a butler, I will not deny it.”

 

"Oh-ho!" Falco looked downright smug at Sebastian's admission and what it apparently implied, to those who wouldn't know any better. "You are talking to one who knows of many circuses, in many countries. Let me think... Christianis Family Circus?"

 

Sebastian shook his head. "No."

 

"The Cinisellis? They are big in Russia."

 

When Sebastian shook his head again, Dagger laughed while raising a hand to ward off Falco, "Hey, save some guesses for another day! In the meantime, Black, why don't you team up with Falco here on the flying trapeze, while I work with Smile on knife-throwing?"

 

"Sounds great!" Ciel chirped, putting another cursed 'cheerful smile' on his face, while grabbing for Sebastian's hand. "Just give us a couple of minutes first?" and with that he tugged Sebastian outside, before anyone else could say anything.

 

Once they were outside, Ciel turned to Sebastian and hissed, "What's going on inside your head? Why do you keep looking up at that high wire when no one's on it?"

 

Sebastian frowned, while looking over his shoulder back at the tent. "It's most disturbing, master; I had the definite impression that there _should have been_ someone there."

 

Ciel knew very well that it took a lot for a _demon_ to feel disturbed. "Someone like who?" he wanted to know.

 

"I..." Sebastian had to shake his head. "I regret to say I do not know, young master. All I can say is that whoever should be up there... is not someone whose presence I would welcome. My impression was accompanied by a definite _dislike_."

 

Ciel folded his arms and scowled at him. "Well, that doesn't narrow the field down much at all; you're none too fond of most of humanity in general." Then his grumpy scowl turned into a more thoughtful frown. "But then... you got so distracted just as you were being introduced to Falco. And Falco tossed out that suggestion that you might be inhuman pretty quickly. I don't know what it would take to _deliberately distract_ a demon and thereby misdirect him, but the most likely suspect would be another inhuman creature." Sebastian started to brighten as if he'd remembered something, when Ciel asked him, "Is Falco himself completely human? Go take a look at him with all your supernatural senses, and tell me if he's got a secret of his own."

 

Sebastian obediently turned and lifted the tent flap to look inside, at where Falco was still standing with Dagger, waiting for them to come back in. Falco gave them a welcoming gesture, while Dagger's was clearly more impatient; Sebastian nodded to them both, but held up a finger as if to say 'one moment more' and dropped the tent flap again. When he turned back to Ciel, the demon looked downright _frustrated_. "He is completely human, Master. As is Dagger."

 

"Hrmm." Ciel frowned in thought for a moment longer and then shrugged. "Well, if whoever you thought you would see is someone you didn't want to see anyway, then at the moment all we can do is be glad we're not dealing with them; I can already tell that this case is going to be complicated enough. You say the missing children we're seeking definitely aren't anywhere on the circus grounds, but the Queen wouldn't have sent me those tickets if she hadn't been made sure by her own sources that this circus has something to do with their kidnappings, so at the moment we can't rule any of the members out..."

 

They went back inside the practice tent, whereupon Ciel was pounced on and dragged off by Dagger to practice knife-throwing, while Sebastian climbed up into the trapeze rigging with Falco and they discussed what sort of routine they could make together. (And Sebastian told Falco that no, he wasn't from Barnum and Bailey's circus in America, either.)

 

 

_To be continued..._


	2. Date Night

After being introduced to and paired up with Falco the trapeze artist, Sebastian spent the next few hours learning to work in rhythm with him to perform the various high-flying stunts that required two people, while he pondered on just _who_ he had been expecting to see on the high wire earlier. It was really quite frustrating; he still had the definite feeling he should know that person or creature, from the moment of sheer _dislike_ he had felt.

 

His little master had been incorrect earlier, when he'd said that Sebastian disliked most of humanity in general. The demon had little regard for most humans, true, but mild contempt was not the same as actually detesting; _that_ was reserved for individuals whom Sebastian found particularly offensive. Such as Lord Randall of Scotland Yard, who blatantly failed to appreciate all that Earl Phantomhive and his butler had done in service to the Queen, and Baldroy their manor's singularly poor excuse for a cook, who wrecked the kitchen on an appallingly regular basis. (And for no reason of a physical issue, such as Finnian's excessive strength or Mey-rin's difficulty in seeing objects up close; Baldroy simply _would not learn_ to be patient and painstaking in meal preparation. Really, if there had been another man handy who fit all of the necessary qualifications for an explosives expert in the Phantomhive employ--no family who would enquire after him when he died, quite readily lethal but not truly bloodthirsty, and smart enough to competently defend the estate but _not_ the curious sort or smart enough to determine Sebastian's true nature--the demon would have long since ground Baldroy into a bloody paste for fertilizing the roses.)

 

Trying to think of just who was missing from the picture was frustrating... and rather distracting. Why, there was a moment in the middle of one stunt that Sebastian came out of his double somersault, almost a fraction of a second too late to catch the bar! Fortunately he recovered in time, made the catch and swung to land easily on the waiting platform. Then he turned to see Falco on the opposite platform, who grinned while giving him that fingers-pressed-together gesture the demon had learned the meaning of a few contracts ago, and calling out " _Perfetto_!"

 

So the human hadn't noticed his slip; that would have been quite embarrassing if he had. Nevertheless, Sebastian resolved to put the issues of the kidnapped children and his missing antagonist out of his mind for now, to concentrate on performing in tandem with Falco. The human performed the same stunt a few moments later, and when he landed on the platform next to 'Black', he asked with a smile, "Cirque Fernando in Montmartre?"

 

"No," Black replied with a shake of his head and a brief smile that did _not_ show his gritted teeth. That was the sixteenth time... Falco was actually rather pleasant company for a human, seeming to not possess any real jealousy over his being so skilled at not just trapeze artistry but several different circus acts, but the man's habit of trying to guess which circus 'Black' used to work at was already becoming more annoying than amusing.

 

Ten minutes later, Sebastian performed another somersaulting stunt, this time with Falco swinging out as prearranged to catch him. But when the catch was complete and Sebastian was ready to be released onto the waiting platform, he encountered an unexpected problem: rather than release the double grip on his arms, Falco was hanging on tightly while staring upside-down at him in utter astonishment and swearing in incredulous Italian. Then the human switched to English, to say, " _Three_! Three full turns! I counted, I know I saw it; _three full turns_! The _triple somersault_! No one has _ever_ done that before!"

 

Oops. He had been warned about this; the young master would _not_ be pleased with him now...

 

_(quick author's note: trapeze acts have been around since they were invented by Jules Leotard in 1859, but the triple somersault, though often tried, was never successfully performed until 1909.)_

 

Falco was still staring down at him open-mouthed as he exclaimed, "Forget other circuses; are you an angel straight from Heaven?!"

 

Sebastian barely managed to suppress his wince as he replied, "No." Not _directly_ from Heaven, anyway... "Would you mind not drooling down on me, please? And I really would like to get to a platform now..."

 

"Eh? Ah, sorry!" as Falco blushed, and then together they swung back and forth in midair until they regained the momentum needed to swing him to a platform. Falco flipped to land next to him a few moments later, still talking excitedly. "The triple! Hah, this will make the Noah's Ark Circus famous even in other countries! They will put you on the posters, you will see!"

 

Oh dear, the young master would not be happy with him at all. Perhaps he should arrange for Falco to have a fatal accident immediately, before he could start babbling about 'Black's amazing feat to the rest of the circus? ...No, too late, other performers who had been watching him work were already talking excitedly to each other, and his sharp ears caught the word 'triple' on more than one set of lips.   Think, Sebastian, think... ah. "I hope they wait to do so, until I can perform it on a regular basis. It would be extremely embarrassing if they announced that as part of my act, but I failed in front of an audience. That was actually the very first time I have ever successfully performed it. Perhaps I should have warned you that I was going to attempt it, but..."

 

"Your first success? Ha, then I have witnessed history in the making! And yes, you should have warned me; I nearly missed catching you, I was so surprised! But is okay, I understand, to fail is always worse when others are expecting. This deserves a celebration! The first triple somersault! ...And done just in time," as Falco pointed over his shoulder towards the tent entrance. "Joker has come in, he is waving for everyone to come down; practice is over for today. You must tell him of your success! The triple somersault!"

 

Indeed, Joker would be informed, but first Sebastian would do a bit of damage mitigation. He descended from the trapeze with Falco following swiftly after, but rather than head straight to Joker, he went over to where his young master was seated and slumped over on a packing crate, looking quite exhausted. Oh dear, training with Dagger must have been more strenuous than he had anticipated...

 

He put on an expression of suitable excitement as he crouched next to the crate to put his head on a level with the young master's, and said, "Smile, I have great news! It took some effort, but I was finally able to perform the triple somersault!"

 

"...guuhh?" as the young master lifted his head just enough to blearily blink at him, but then shook off enough of his exhaustion to respond to the clear verbal cue with a weakly enthusiastic, "That's wonderful!"

 

"Yes, isn't it? Of course it shall have to be practiced a great deal more, before the circus will have confidence that I can perform it successfully in front of an audience. But once I begin performing it before audiences on a regular basis, first-tier membership is all but assured!" There; that should make it seem like Sebastian had done it as part of following his master's suggestion, that the easiest way to investigate the first-tier members would be to become first-tier members themselves.

 

"The triple somersault? Ye've _done_ it? That's right _amazing_ ; even Peter and Wendy can't do more than double somersaults!" Joker said with a grin as he came over, and rested his skeletal hand on Sebastian's shoulder in congratulations and approval. "Practice that as often as ye can, Black! But no more practice for tonight; it's time for dinner and getting to bed. Which ye look like ye're in sore need of, Smile! C'mon, don't be so down; smile, Smile!" he added jokingly as he patted the young master on a shoulder as well, before as he went back to stand in front of the entire group.

 

Joker brandished a sheet of paper as he announced, "And here's what some of ye have been waiting for; time to announce room assignments for the rookies! These are the results of a completely impartial lottery; can't be fairer than that!" Glancing at the list, he announced, "Smile will be in Tent Eight." And then he reached to the side to gently tug on the arm of a youth who'd entered the tent right after him. "And here's your roommate, Smile; meet Freckles."

 

That got the young master to lift his head enough to stare at the other teenager, trying to smile politely but not succeeding. Sebastian was fairly sure of what his contractor was thinking just then; having a stranger in the tent with them would make their investigating more difficult.

 

"And Black's in Tent Nine. Black's roommate will be Falco."

 

...And that would make it _even more_ difficult.   There was no doubt his young master thought so too; he shot to his feet and began protesting that he and Black should room together, as they were used to doing so. But Joker and Dagger both waved his protests away with chuckled assurances that he was getting to be a big boy now and should be more independent, and that both Black and Smile should make new friends now that they were here.

 

Well, this would be bothersome. But Sebastian kept a friendly smile on his face as Falco gave a cheerful shrug and greeted him as a roommate, and then showed him which tent was Tent Nine.

 

Once they were inside, Falco produced a coin from a pocket and asked, "Flip to see who gets top bunk?"

 

"If you prefer the top bunk, you are welcome to it," Sebastian assured him. "In truth, I should probably have the bottom bunk, as I rarely sleep through the night. I must sometimes get up to, ah, tend to bodily needs; you understand." Which was true enough, even if the body in question was actually his master's when he needed the comfort of warm milk after nightmares. And it gave him an alibi for slipping away in the middle of the night to seek out his young master.

 

"I understand; I have a brother who does the same," Falco said with a nod as they set out or put away their few personal items--Sebastian had only his spare uniforms and the nightclothes he seldom wore, but Falco had a few framed photographs, a statuette of the Virgin Mary and a little clay figure that looked like a child's rendition of a goat--and got ready for bed. Falco leaped into the top bunk, and was asleep within minutes. Sebastian lay in the bottom bunk and feigned sleep for an hour and a half, until nearly all of the noises from the other tents and passersby had diminished to silence. Then he silently left the bed, checked to make sure Falco was sound asleep, redressed in his uniform and slipped outside.

 

His first stop was in Tent Eight, to check on his master. 'Smile' was in the bottom bunk, and already sound asleep; Sebastian thought to wake him and ask for instructions, but looked at how peacefully he was sleeping--and recalled how exhausted he had been by the day's training--and finally decided against it. He was reasonably sure of what the master would order him to do already; to sneak into the first-tier members’ area if he could do so without being seen, and look for anything that might be a clue to the kidnapped children.  

 

Detective work was really his young master's passion instead of his, but Sebastian had read all the mystery stories that the boy favored in an effort to better understand his contractor, so he had some idea of how detecting was supposed to work. First step was to survey the scene, and look for something that seemed out of place or inappropriate. There might be a few nocturnal snakes still out and about, but those wouldn't be a problem for him. He set out for the first-tier member tents, deciding that the first one to start with would be the tent belonging to Joker--

 

But was distracted as, while slipping past a heavily curtained circus wagon, he heard a rumbling growl coming from within. A true smile slowly spread across his face, as he turned to lift up a corner of one curtain to peek within.

 

Betty the tiger eyed him, her eyes gleaming in the dim light coming in through the curtain, and growled again; this time a bit louder, with a snarl working its way in at the end. Sebastian cooed to her, "Hello to you too, my proud striped beauty. Isn't it a lovely night? ...Be patient but a few moments, and I will be right back with a gift for you," just before he let the curtain drop, and then dashed off the circus grounds. A grand lady such as her deserved a courting gift, something far better than the bits of dried beef that he usually kept in his pockets for meeting much smaller beauties...

 

Ten minutes later he was back and lifting the curtain again to show Betty the gift he'd brought her; the carcasses of three freshly-killed stray dogs, tied together at their tails with a big red bow. Betty growled eagerly at the sight and the scent of still-warm blood, and stretched a paw through the bars to snag and pull the first carcass towards her.

 

Sebastian let the curtain drop behind him as he pushed the smallest carcass in through the bars and into her paws, and then unlocked the cage to climb in with the other two carcasses in hand as he whispered, "How very thoughtful of them to provide you with these curtains; they hold in the heat quite well, and will also give us some measure of privacy, my grand beauty. Such a lethal and gorgeous creature..."

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Two hours before dawn, Sebastian bid Betty _au revoir_ and climbed back out of her cage, remembering to lock it behind him. His butler uniform was a complete loss, shredded in some places and bloodstained in others, but he had packed a spare... and it had been so very worth it. Ohhh, what a night...

 

"Why yes, Master, I did manage to sneak out and investigate one first-tier member's residence," he muttered to himself as he made his way back to Tent Nine. "However, I didn't find anything there that would help us in our investigation. But I'd be happy to go back and look again if you'd like..."

 

 

_To be continued_


	3. Assumptions, Equivocations, and Outright Lies

 

It was official: Ciel Phantomhive was _not_ having a good morning. In point of fact, this was quite possibly the worst morning he’d had in the last three years, since Sebastian had pulled him out of that thrice-damned cage.

 

He’d been woken up by Freckles at far too early an hour, and had to dress himself in a terrible hurry instead of having his butler do it for him, resulting in his shirt buttons being mismatched and his boot laces being only half-tied; he had seen disgusting drunkards in Whitechapel who presented a better figure than he did right now! After mocking his appearance, Sebastian had at least tried to fix the knot in his eyepatch strings—but then Freckles and all the other circus performers had mocked him even more, taunting that he needed Sebastian to be his mum.

 

Then he’d botched the task they’d given him of peeling the potatoes; fortunately Sebastian had come up with a menu that could use them, but Ciel still burned with embarrassment at Freckles’ reaction on seeing the potatoes done so badly. And then once they’d been cooked, Ciel had been very nearly knocked off his feet and trampled by everyone else rushing to get the food, and had only managed to get for himself one plain roll! If not for Freckles’ unexpected generosity in sharing food with him, he’d likely be feeling faint with hunger by now.

 

Thanks to the meat pies that Freckles had put on his plate, Ciel wasn’t feeling hungry at the moment… but that might also be because he was far too _sore_ to feel hungry. After his performance in the practice tent yesterday, doing considerably worse at throwing knives than he’d done just hours earlier at the tryouts (He’d claimed he’d strained a muscle during the tryouts, from trying too hard to impress them, but he wasn’t sure Dagger had entirely believed him), he’d been told to give his arm a rest and try tightrope walking again, and other balancing stunts. Somehow Freckles had ended up being his mentor in the balancing stunts; the other boy kept urging him up onto a low-strung rope, or on top of a very large ball… and Ciel kept falling off just moments after he got up there.

 

“Hey! What happened to your sense of balance from the tryouts?” Freckles exclaimed in dismay while Ciel groaned while sitting up and rubbing his head, after falling off for the fifth time. “These are the basics! The very basics!”

 

 _Yes, the very basics of torture_! Ciel thought but didn't say aloud. He'd read once about a medieval torture device called the iron maiden; a prisoner was locked inside a device that resembled an upright sarcophagus, but with long and very sharp spikes pointing inwards. Unless the prisoner stood extremely straight and still--if they leaned or wavered for any reason--they were skewered on the spikes. Ciel was now convinced that the bastard who'd come up with that fiendish device had done so after falling off one of these practice tightropes, onto a sharp tack.

 

"Did you see that?!" "A triple! He did it again!" "Black did another triple somersault!" Freckles paused in his berating as he and Ciel both looked up at the trapeze, where Sebastian was just now landing on a platform after performing the stunt. His trapeze partner and catcher Falco, while still hanging by his knees on a trapeze bar, grinned and led the applause for "Black" after having accomplished such an incredibly difficult feat.

 

Sebastian graciously accepted the applause with a bow before leaping out to do another stunt, while Ciel looked up at him with narrowed eyes. Well of _course_ Sebastian was having such an easy time on the trapeze, demons could _fly_ in their natural forms, he was probably as happy as a bird in its nest up there... And Ciel had a very hard time hiding his resentment when Freckles turned back to him and said sternly, "Hey, you gotta get back on track quick; you don't want your friend Black leaving you behind!"

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

While practicing with Falco on the trapeze, Sebastian frequently glanced over to see how his young master was doing at balancing practice... which was quite poorly indeed. He was quite sincerely glad that he was several dozen feet away while witnessing how often Ciel fell off the rope or the balancing ball and went sprawling, because if he'd been any closer, Ciel would have noticed him watching and been even _more_ embarrassed and humiliated than he clearly already was, and then he undoubtedly would have ordered his demon butler to do something painful in response. And Sebastian had no desire to spend a full day hanging by the neck in the meat-smoking shed again, thank you very much... Not that the circus actually had a meat-smoking shed, but he had no doubt that the young master would improvise; Ciel could get quite creative with his punishments.

At roughly the third hour of their practice, Falco declared it was time for another water break, and they descended from the trapeze rigging so the Italian expatriate could guzzle a tall glass of water and then dunk his whole head in a bucket to cool off. Sebastian did nothing so uncouth as to dunk his head, but he did drink a glass of water as well to fit in, and he did wet his handkerchief and pat at his face and neck with it, pretending to wipe off sweat.

 

After they'd cooled down a bit Falco and Sebastian went back up to the trapeze rigging, but before they began practicing anew, Falco said he wanted to talk about something. After looking around to make sure that the other practicing trapeze artists and the high wire walkers weren't within hearing range, Falco gestured Sebastian closer and asked quietly, “The boy, Smile… he is your son, yes?”

 

Sebastian gave him a startled look, but said nothing.

 

Falco continued, “I have seen how you are with him, and I have heard what others said they saw, ever since you arrive. You look out for him, make sure he is safe, and fix his mistakes for him even when he is being sullen brat, like all boys his age. Even when he is in care of others, good people who know their craft well, you look that way every few minutes, just as a father does to make sure all is good with his little boy for first time away. You are more than just former servants together, yes?”

 

After a pause, Sebastian nodded. “Much more than that. You are indeed observant, Falco.”

 

Falco grinned with satisfaction at having apparently guessed one of his tent mate’s secrets, before asking, “So why do you hide the fact that he is your son? Is not a thing to be ashamed of here, Black. Many fine families are raised in circus; best way to have good performers is to raise them from children!”

 

Sebastian said slowly, “You must understand… I was not married to the boy’s mother.”

 

Falco eyed him speculatively. “But she was married, yes? To someone else, who did not love her as you loved her?”

 

“She was indeed married to another,” Sebastian said with another nod, before giving him a speculative look. “Do you, perhaps, have some hard-earned knowledge of this sort of situation?”

 

Falco gave a sad and somewhat bitter laugh. “Is why I am here now! Here, instead of in beautiful country of Italy; beautiful, and so much warmer too,” as he gripped himself with his arms and gave an expressive shudder. “But unlike you, I left no son behind me…” His voice trailed off as he looked thoughtful. “I think. Maybe someday I go back again, just one more time, to be sure.”

 

“Anyway!” as Falco clapped his hands decisively. “Now we make deal, you and I. We talk to first-tier members, and I tell them why they should let me work with poor boy who is struggling so over there, and help him find a good way to perform. I know of many ways to entertain crowds that this circus does not do yet; together we find a way for your boy to shine!”

 

Sebastian eyed him impassively. “And in return?”

 

“And in return, _you_ ,” as Falco pointed right at Sebastian, “teach me how to do that triple somersault! You have proven it can be done; now show me how and I will conquer that move, or burst my heart trying!”

 

Sebastian rubbed his chin in thought. “It sounds like a fine deal indeed… but let me talk to the boy first, before I agree. You understand, sometimes it is quite embarrassing for a secret to be told, even if those around will think no less of him for it.”

 

“Of course, of course,” Falco said generously.

 

So they climbed down from the rigging and approached the beginners' balancing area, just as Freckles wiped a hand across her forehead and said, "I'm all sweaty! Let's go take a shower, Smile!"

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Aching in every bone and muscle in his body and so exhausted he could barely stand, Ciel nonetheless perked up when Freckles declared, "I'm all sweaty! Let's go take a shower, Smile!"

 

The circus had a _shower_? He could get _clean_ again? Right now that sounded even better than tea and scones in his own home! Ciel was about to ask Freckles to lead the way when Sebastian came up to them with Falco following behind, and asked with a polite smile, "Pardon me, but before you go anywhere, may I speak with Smile for a few minutes?"

 

Ciel was sorely tempted to tell Sebastian that whatever it was could wait a few minutes, until after he'd had a shower and gotten into clean clothes again, but Sebastian had that certain gleam in his eye that meant he was about to have some fun... and a demon's idea of _fun_ was generally something that Her Majesty would _not_ approve of. Best to find out what he had in mind and nip it in the bud, Ciel thought to himself as he excused himself from Freckles' offer, and followed Black and Falco over to the tent entrance. But instead of following them outside, Falco stayed inside the entrance while they went out, with a few words to the effect that he would give them privacy for talking.

 

Once they were alone outside, his butler began, "I have been presented with a solution that may make your life easier; at the very least, you will no longer have to walk on tightropes and balancing balls—or more accurately, repeatedly fall off them,” Sebastian corrected himself as his perpetual smirk widened a fraction.

 

“Whatever it is, I’ll take it,” Ciel said with a groan as he rubbed at the latest bruise… and then caught himself with a scowl. “Hold on, forget I said that. I know that smile, demon; what’s the catch?”

 

“Oh, it’s just a trifling matter, my lord,” Sebastian said airily. “You simply have to let the other circus performers acknowledge you as my bastard.”

 

“ _As your WHAT_!?!”

 

Ciel’s screech of outrage could be heard far and wide, and several people poked their heads out of their tents to see what was the matter. But by that time Sebastian had already grabbed Ciel, covered his mouth and whisked him away at lightning speed to a more secluded spot. “You said something earlier about not drawing too much attention to ourselves, young master?”

 

“Let go of me!” Ciel demanded angrily, jerking away from his grip. “And how dare you even imply—damn you, I’m not anyone’s _bastard_! My parents were married! And happy with each other!”

 

Sebastian held up his hands in a placating manner. “I swear to you, young master, I told no lies about your parentage… but my tent mate has noticed that I’m quite protective of you, and concocted his own theory to explain why. And he wants to make a bargain with me; he proposes that he work with you directly to develop a method of performing that is physically less taxing for you, and in return I show him how to perform the triple somersault. It is an acrobatic maneuver that is currently beyond him, but I believe it is within the realm of a well-trained human's ability.”

 

Ciel scowled, and said nothing for several seconds while pacing angrily… but finally growled, “All right, we’ll let people believe that; it’s not like this is my real identity, anyway. At least it’ll keep me off those damned tightropes and balancing balls.”

 

After discussing a few ideas for responses to the inevitable questions, they went back to the practice tent to find that Freckles had left, but Falco was still there and looking at them expectantly. Sebastian gave the acrobat a solemn nod, and he came over to them with a wide smile. “Good! Now we go talk to Joker and his first-tier members together.” They walked as a group towards the tent entrance, Sebastian to Ciel’s right and Falco to his left, and the acrobat reached over to give Ciel’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze (and Ciel forced himself to not flinch away from it.) “Have no fear, boy; no one here will look down on you for your parentage. Circus people, we understand Life far better than those silly nobles hiding in their fancy houses.”

 

“Thank you,” Ciel said with a smile through gritted teeth.

 

Ten minutes later, they were standing in front of Joker, Dagger, Peter and Wendy; the four first-tier members had been quietly conferring with each other over some piece of paper that Joker had pocketed as they’d approached. The pair stood side by side, not quite touching but obviously closer than people normally stood together, as their self-appointed spokesman Falco explained that Black and Smile weren’t just former servants together, they were _family_ , and therefore a little extra consideration was needed.

 

Joker was frowning at Sebastian as he said, “So why didn’t you tell us this at the audition?”

 

Sebastian answered without hesitation, “In the high society that I have served in for the last few years, servants can be and have been dismissed for marrying without their master’s permission, or having children whether in or out of wedlock.”

 

Ciel decided it was time for him to chime in; Sebastian was highly skilled at prevaricating and misleading people, but their contract kept him from stating any outright lies. Whereas Ciel had become over the last few years a master at telling blatant lies, aided by his ability to fake a better 'perfectly innocent' look than any demon could ever manage.

 

He gave the performers his most earnest expression as he said, “We only found each other a few years ago, after Mum sent him a letter when she found out she was dying. Da got me a job at his household so we could be together under one roof, but we couldn’t acknowledge each other as father and son there; we didn’t dare risk Da getting fired for it. And when he came home two nights ago with news that he’d found a new place for us both, we agreed to keep quiet about the truth here too, until we were sure it was safe to be honest at last.”

 

Peter looked them over skeptically, rubbing his diminutive chin. “Are you two sure you’re really father and son? I’m not seeing much of a resemblance here, ‘cepting that you’re both prettier than any man or boy ought to be.”

 

“The boy takes after his mother in many ways,” Sebastian said promptly. “Nevertheless, I am quite certain of our relationship,” as he laid a proprietary arm across Ciel’s shoulders.  

 

Falco folded his arms and frowned down at Peter as he said very seriously, “I think perhaps you do not realize the greatness of the insult you have just given Black. To doubt he has fathered the child in front of him? Back where I come from, you would be losing teeth for that. You are lucky that Black is clearly good man at heart, and you are too small for a man to beat without looking like a bully.”

 

Peter instantly bounced up to the top of a nearby table, and snarled as soon as he was at Falco’s eye level, “Any time you want a fight, I’m ready; I can take you before you’ll even have time to scream!”

 

“ _Enough_ , Peter,” Joker said almost wearily, with an air that suggested he’d had to do this many times before. “Falco was just pointing out how you’d insulted our newest member, and I can see how it could be taken as an insult. But no insult was intended, so there’ll be no fighting, _right_?”

 

Peter muttered under his breath but stepped back from the table’s edge, though he didn’t hop down to the floor again; instead, Wendy vaulted up to join him. Once she was at the same level, she looked Sebastian and Ciel over with a pretty little frown as she said, “So why did you want to leave a nobleman’s house and join the circus, if you didn’t know until now that it would be all right here to let people know that you’re father and son?”

 

Now Dagger spoke up with a wry grin. “Oh, Black explained that to us when Joker scouted him. It seems their old master is--”

 

Wendy held up a finger, and Dagger instantly shushed. “I want to hear it from _them_.” Her doll-like features were pretty and innocent, but the look in her eyes was definitely _not_. Ciel abruptly had the impression that while Peter _talked_ a big fight, Wendy was the silently lethal type.

 

Sebastian kept the smile from his face, but Ciel could just _hear_ the demon laughing gleefully inside, at the chance to insult his master _right in front of him_ and get clean away with it. “The master of our household is very spoiled, and sometimes shockingly ill-behaved--”

 

“And his friends are _worse_ ,” Ciel said in a tiny, broken voice as he scurried even closer to Sebastian’s side and clung to his trouser leg like a boy half his age. “We _had_ to get away from there… I couldn’t…” and he buried his face in Sebastian’s coat.

 

He’d done some fast and furious thinking while they were walking with Falco, about what he would do and say if they asked why they would actually _want_ to leave a nobleman’s household together, when so far ‘Smile’ had shown himself to be so obviously, painfully unsuited for circus life. Sebastian likely hadn't even thought about it, but a truly caring father would be willing to put up with even a bad employer, so long as his child was comfortable and safe under that roof.

 

Ciel had come up with the perfect cover story while they were walking, and though they hadn’t had the opportunity to talk privately with each other again, Ciel knew he could count on Sebastian to catch his intent and act appropriately. Sure enough, the demon butler reached down to hold him even closer to his side, just like a father coddling his frightened child as he said, “You are safe here, boy; I will protect you, you know that.”

 

Close, but not quite enough; time to pull out all the stops. Ciel peeked out after a second to find all the circus performers staring at him in surprise and alarm, and he said in his most pathetic whisper, “There was a party… so many people, they were keeping Da too busy, Cook sent me up to help… I was serving some sweets when this—this _viscount_ , he came up to me and… he took me to another room, and…”

 

Then he closed his eyes, and just for a second, he let himself remember that month in the cage… and what they did to him in those times when they took him out of the cage. All of it.

 

It wasn’t something he had ever practiced in front of a mirror, but Ciel had some idea of what letting himself remember did to his face and expression. Joker swore under his breath, Dagger swore out loud, and Falco unleashed a stream of profanities that were no less potent for being in Italian. While Sebastian dropped to one knee, grasped him by the shoulders and said urgently, “Look at me, my boy. Look at me!” Ciel obediently opened his eye and looked Sebastian square in the face as the demon said forcefully, “That is in the past. You are here and now, and you are **_safe_** here and now. That will never happen again.”

 

And even though he’d done that deliberately as part of a ploy for acceptance, Ciel took far more comfort than he would ever admit to from Sebastian’s touch and words. Even deliberate remembering was _awful_ , but he quieted his roiling innards with the knowledge that none of that would ever, _ever_ happen to him again; Sebastian would rip apart the first man that tried. He threw his arms around the demon that would eat his soul one day, and felt _safe_ in his embrace.

 

Their publicly private moment was interrupted by Falco exclaiming “That will never, _ever_ happen again!” as he fell to his knees beside Sebastian, to look Ciel in the eye. “In the circus, we protect our own! We keep an eye out for each other when the _pervertito_ and _pedofilo_ come by, and we keep the little ones far from them and safe. If that man or someone like him comes looking for you, you call for Falco or your father, and we make sure he never sees daylight again!”

 

“Yes. But now you understand,” as Sebastian turned to the first-tier performers while still hugging Ciel close, as if warning the onlookers to not even try to separate them. “We _must_ stay together. I _must_ keep him safe… even if he is in truth not suitable for performing.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been wondering about that,” Dagger said, rubbing his chin while giving Ciel an arched eyebrow. “I can believe that you overstrained your arm doing the knife-throwing at the tryouts, so that's why you did so much worse later on, but what happened to that fine balancing skill you showed us on the tightrope too? Every time I looked over to where you were working with Freckles, you were falling off a lot more often than staying on.”

 

This was the question they’d actually crafted an answer for before agreeing to Falco’s deal, though it depended on the circus performers believing the same rubbish that some of the more gullible members of high society did. Ciel rubbed at his head in seeming embarrassment as he said, “At the tryouts… we cheated, sort of. Da gave me _the eyes_ , both times, and when he does that I can do almost anything.”

 

“Gave you the eyes?” Joker repeated as he and the others frowned while looking up at Sebastian’s eyes, which the butler modestly lowered in response.

 

“Did you notice that I took a few moments to whisper to him before each performance, and did you also notice that we kept our eyes locked on each other the entire time?” Sebastian asked, and before the performers could actually remember whether they’d seen any of that or not, he continued, “Perhaps you are familiar with the work of the Scottish scientist James Braid, and his work in neurohypnology; his experiments determined that, when properly and completely hypnotized, people are capable of doing things they would otherwise never consider.”

 

“But it only works so long as he's looking me right in the eyes; when he does, then… I just _know_ I can do it, sure as I know I’m alive, and somehow I can,” Ciel said, again giving them his very best earnest expression once more. “But as soon as he stops, when I try to do it on my own…” he gave a helpless shrug, looking suitably dejected, and hoped fervently that they accepted the story without demanding further proof, like having ‘Black’ hypnotize him into an instant trapeze artist. But since Sebastian had already demonstrated amazing physical skills for them all, it should make them more ready to believe he had an amazing mental skill as well…

 

And sure enough, they bought it by the bagful. “So you _hypnotized_ your son, and he was suddenly able to balance on a tightrope and throw daggers like a champ?” Joker said, rubbing his chin in thought. “That would make for an amazing circus act, if you can do it with members of the audience.”

 

But Sebastian slowly and firmly shook his head, and Ciel said urgently, “ _Please_ don’t make him do it in public; the preachers call it _the devil’s work_!” Which was both true of the more ignorant men of the cloth, and wickedly ironic in Sebastian’s case. He embellished while gripping his servant even tighter in seeming fear, “Da was nearly _killed_ for it once! Mum made him swear before she died that he'd never do it again! He only did it this time because I begged him to; because we were so _desperate_ to find a new home, somewhere the master would never think to look for us!”

 

“And they have _found_ that new home here, yes?” Falco said, giving Joker and the others a challenging look. “They will not be cast out now that they are honest with you. Black is great enough performer for both of them! But I say to you, let _me_ work with Smile and I will find what he can do, a way he can perform in circus that will please the audience.”

 

Joker frowned but nodded, “All right; we’ll give you a couple of weeks to work with him. And if nothing else, he can stay as a general assistant, working in the cook’s tent for meals and the props tent the rest of the time; maybe become a regular stage hand once he grows up and gets some muscle on him. Dagger, bring Freckles in here for the news, will you?”

 

Dagger nodded and stepped out of the tent, but then stepped back just two seconds later with a shrug. “Freckles was already heading this way; be here in a few moments.”

 

Less than a minute later, Freckles came in through the tent flap, wearing fresh clothes and dampened hair while saying, “Have you guys seen Smile anywhere? He needs to—oh, you’re here!” as he looked at Ciel in surprise.

 

“Come on in; we’ve got news for you,” Joker said with a beckoning gesture. “It turns out that Black and Smile are actually father and son!”

 

“Wot, really?” as Freckles looked them both over in even more surprise.

 

“Yes, really. And Falco here wants to work with Smile, to find a better way for him to perform than on the tightrope, so we’ll let them work together for the next couple of weeks.”

 

“And please, now that you know the truth, can my Da and I have a tent together after all?” Ceil asked, while scuffing his feet in seeming embarrassment. “I know, I’m a big boy now and all that, but… we’re _family_. And it’s the closest we may ever come to having a home all our own…”

 

Falco immediately volunteered, “I do not mind to share a tent with Freckles instead of Black; is all the same to me.”

 

Joker and Dagger both frowned for some reason, but Joker finally said, “All right; Smile and Falco can swap tents.”

 

Freckles looked downright crestfallen at the news, and Ciel privately wondered why; was it because the boy thought he would lose the coveted top bunk?  

 

Falco must have noticed Freckles’ downcast expression too, because the acrobat said to him reassuringly, “Even if he is in different tent and with different teacher now, is no reason for you and Smile to not be good friends! Boys should have friends close to their own age. Now come, Smile, we change tents quickly, and then meet in practice tent again to begin working on new act,” as he took Ciel by the shoulder and gently but firmly steered him towards the tent flap.

 

Ciel let himself be steered outside and towards the newcomers’ tents, knowing without looking that Sebastian was following just a few paces behind them. Once they were out of earshot of the other performers, Falco said to him with a rather sly-looking smile, “You become good friends with Freckles, okay? Spend time together, play games; trust me, is very good idea.”

 

Ciel frowned at Falco as he asked, “Why? What’s so special about Freckles?”

 

“Ah, you find out soon enough, I think. You and Black are little family, but every circus is like a _big_ family, and sooner or later everyone knows each other’s secrets. For now, just trust your _Zio_ Falco,” as the acrobat gave him a wink, “and become friends with Freckles.” And with that, Falco gave his shoulder a parting squeeze before splitting off to gather his things from the tent he shared with Sebastian.

 

It took only a few minutes for Ciel and Falco to gather their belongings and swap tents; when Ciel left Tent 8, Falco had just finished agreeing with Freckles that the younger boy could have the top bunk. And once his few belongings were settled in Tent 9, Ciel let Sebastian give him a sponge bath from a bucket of hot water that he'd produced from somewhere. "My apologies for not making this a proper bath for you, young master, but there simply isn't room in this small dwelling for a full bathtub," Sebastian said as he rubbed the sponge down Ciel's back. "But at least you're spared having to clean up the way the other circus performers do, with cold water and outdoors."

 

" _That's_ what Freckles meant by a shower?" Ciel said with an expressive shudder of dismay. If that was all they really had for cleaning themselves here, then he was profoundly glad that Sebastian had interrupted them before he could follow the boy to get cleaned up.

 

"Speaking of Freckles... what secret does he have, anyway?" he wondered aloud. "Do you suppose that whatever Falco knows about him that we don't yet, will be important to our case?" as he turned to face his butler.

 

He had the definite impression that Sebastian had wiped a smirk off his face just as Ciel turned to face him, but all the demonic servant said was, "I really could not say for sure, my lord. But I noted during our conversation that the first-tier members seemed protective of Freckles; evidently the young performer is a favorite of theirs. Perhaps Freckles could be our ‘in’ to associating more closely with first-tier members, and learning their secrets. In which case, young master, it might behoove you to consider Falco’s advice, and work on becoming good friends."

 

"Hmph. Well, it shouldn't be any real trouble to fake that, so long as he doesn't try to put me on a balancing ball again," Ciel mused as he got dressed again in clean clothes, and prepared for his first session with Falco.

 

Sebastian walked with him to the practice tent and up to where Falco was waiting, before announcing, "Rather than work solo on the trapeze, I shall practice my juggling while you and Falco work together. Listen well to your new mentor, my boy," as he reached over and familiarly ruffled Ciel's hair--a gesture Ciel _hated with a passion_ , and they both knew it.

 

"I'll do my best, Da," Ciel said as he smiled through gritted teeth. Sebastian seemed to be enjoying his new 'fatherly' role just a little too much!   He'd have to have strong words with his servant, when they were alone in their tent again later...

 

 

_To be continued_

 


	4. The Second Effect

For his first session with his new mentor at the circus, Falco the trapeze artist, Ciel was initially told to just sit on a handy bench and listen while Falco told just a little bit about himself. "I grew up in circus; my parents were both performers before me, and their parents before them. But my grandparents were not trapeze artists; they worked with Lipizzaner horses, the white and clever ones. All my family performs, in different ways. My mother and my sister work with the horses now, my father and my little brother do juggling, my uncle and one cousin work with dogs, my other cousin is master of the high wire, I do the trapeze and trampoline, and my older brother is finest _pagliaccio_ in all of Italy!"

 

"The finest... clown?" Ciel asked to clarify. He knew what the word meant, but it's not a word that he would ever have associated with the _pride_ evident on Falco's face.

 

"Yes! If someday you ever go to Italy, you must see his performance! But I tell you all that so you will understand, from my family and from all my friends back in Italy, I know of many different ways to perform for audiences, many that this circus does not show; maybe even some you have never heard of! To find out what type of performing is best for you, the first question is most important: what performing do you _want_ to do? I was watching while you were up on high wire; I heard you ask Joker if you could do a musical performance instead. Which instrument do you like?" Falco asked.

 

"The violin," Ciel said without hesitation. When he'd been a child, his parents had encouraged his interest in several musical instruments, from the accordion to the xylophone. He’d enjoyed playing with them in the nursery, because what boy doesn't like toys that make noise? He'd had the most fun with percussion instruments like his toy drum set, but since his mother had said she liked violin music best, he'd learned how to play a few simple songs on the violin for his parents before the Fire.

 

Since the Fire, Ciel had continued music lessons only because it was expected for a nobleman to have a well rounded education, including proficiency in some musical instrument. And since Sebastian himself favored the violin, that was the instrument the young earl had been rigorously tutored in for the last three years, until he could play some very difficult pieces with the sheet music in front of him, and several less difficult pieces from memory.

 

"And do you have a violin with you?"

 

"Ah... let me get my Da; he knows where it's packed away..."

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Five minutes later at the Phantomhive townhouse, Prince Soma was frowning at the chess board that Agni had set up for him so he could practice chess strategies, when he heard a noise and looked up to see Sebastian walking out of the music room, with Ciel’s violin case in hand. “Sebastian! How did you get—is Ciel here?” he asked eagerly.

 

“No, the master is currently elsewhere, heavily involved in the current investigation, and he now requires his violin. Pardon me, but I must hurry back to him,” Sebastian said politely as he strode through the door to the parlor. But when Soma followed him through the door, asking how on earth a _violin_ could become crucial to one of Ciel’s mysterious investigations, the butler was nowhere to be seen.

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

"Here you are, my boy; it took me a moment to unlock the trunk," Sebastian said as he handed the violin in its case to Ciel, carefully neglecting to mention that the trunk in question had been back at the townhouse.

 

"Thank you, Da," Ciel said with a sunny smile as he accepted the violin, and then had to endure Sebastian ruffling his hair again in a fatherly manner. Then Sebastian left to practice his performance elsewhere, while Ciel rosined up the bow and spent a few moments making sure the violin was properly tuned. Then he launched into one of the violin solo pieces Sebastian had drilled into him: Johann S. Bach's _Sonata No.1 in G minor_. At about three minutes into the solo, he glanced over at Falco, and noticed the man wearing a pensive frown.

 

_What, not good enough for you_? Ciel thought with irritation, and stopped playing Bach to launch into a far more difficult piece: Niccolo Paganini's _Caprice No. 24 in A Minor_. It was a notoriously difficult piece that frequently caused student violinists to break into either tears or a cold sweat when told to play it, so of course Sebastian had drilled him in playing the damn thing until his fingers bled. It had taken three solid months of practice last autumn, going through five horsehair bows and nearly a full set of strings in the process, before he could finally play it through consistently without errors.

 

"Paganini! I recognize the music now, and yes, you are very good with the violin," Falco interrupted him scarcely a minute into playing the caprice. "But this is... perhaps not best music for circus performance. Perhaps... Do you know any _filastrocche_?"

 

"Any _what_?" as Ciel stared at him.

 

"A _filastrocca_ , a child's tune?"

 

“You want me to play a _nursery rhyme_?” Ciel asked, just to be sure, and got Falco's firm nod in response. So he lifted the bow and set the violin on his shoulder again, and after a bit of thought, he played "The Cat and the Fiddle." It had been years since he played it, but it was one of the tunes his old music tutor had taught him before the Fire, and after Sebastian's rigorous teaching methods, he was able to play nearly any simple piece from memory or even by ear.

 

After he played it through, Falco looked intrigued. "I do not know that tune; is it popular in this country?"

 

"Very popular; nearly every child knows it." And then after a quick look around to make sure that Sebastian wasn't close enough to hear him and later mock him for his poor singing voice, Ciel sang,

"Hey, diddle diddle,

The cat and the fiddle,

The cow jumped over the moon,

The little dog laughed to see such sport,

And the dish ran away with the spoon!"

 

Falco grinned at the silly lyrics, and then suggested, "Play again? And this time, think of not just the notes but the rhyme as you play. Think of what a sight it would be, to see a cat play music and a cow jump so high; think of dishes and spoons running about on tiny legs! Think of that as you play, and see what your fingers do."

 

Ciel raised his eyebrows at his instructor, but took a moment as he lifted his bow again to think about the rhyme. It really would be quite a sight, so see a cat fiddling and a cow jumping over the moon... Jumping that high, or being _thrown_ that high? He pictured his loyal servants trying to make the rhyme come true for him: Finnian happily tossing a shocked Guernsey cow high in the air, Sebastian foisting a tiny violin on that cat in the gardens that he probably thought Ciel didn't know about, and all the dishes and cutlery running terrified from Bard's cooking in the kitchen... and a small but real smile danced on his lips as he played the tune again, twice through.

 

When Ciel finished, lifted his bow from the strings and gave him a questioning look, Falco clapped his hands and grinned at him. "Yes, now your violin sounds of life and happiness; of fun to have. _Now_ you sound like you enjoy your own music!"

 

His words gave Ciel pause, and he stared at his instrument in thought. To play the violin, not because it was expected of him as a nobleman to have a well-rounded education, but because it was enjoyable? Playing music _for fun_?

 

_Well, then_... _bugger Paganini, and bury Bach_ , Ciel thought with a positively wicked smile, as he tossed the last three years' worth of classical music lessons right out the window, before setting the violin--no, the _fiddle_ ; violins are classical instruments but fiddles are _fun_ \--to his shoulder again. And though he didn't realize it, the smile stayed on his face and become gentler as he drew the bow and teased out _A-Hunting We Will Go_ , followed by _Muffin Man_. And then, because not all of the classical composers had been sadists bent on torturing little children's fingers, he played the main theme of Beethoven's _Ode to Joy_.

 

He raised his bow with a flourish when he was done, and Falco clapped even harder, grinning from ear to ear. "Yes! You were having _fun_ , and that is what the circus is about! People come to the circus to either be amazed, or to laugh; to have fun! Yes, that will be your act! You will play the fiddle and dance for others, so they can share in your fun!”

 

The smile fell from Ciel's face like a rock from a cliff, hitting the bottom of his stomach as he echoed in dismay, "Dance?! I can't dance! I can barely manage a waltz without stepping on toes!"

 

Falco just chuckled at his dismay. "Ah, I do not speak of dancing with a lady; that is very different. For the dancing I am thinking of, you are already holding your partner, and she has no toes for you to step on! Dancing that is also for _fun_ , not for courting ladies or for impressing fancy nobles. But we start you off easy. First, you just walk in wide circle around me, while playing fun music on your fiddle." That did indeed seem easy, so Ciel started walking while playing nursery rhymes again. After he made two complete circuits around Falco, the acrobat commanded, "Walk faster! If you do not hurry, other children will get all the sweets!"

 

Falco certainly knew how to inspire children, Ciel thought with a wry smile as he began trotting about in a circle, still playing the simplest lively tunes he knew. After a dozen more circuits, he began to feel a bit out of breath, and a full thirty circuits had him breathing hard and starting to sweat again, while Falco periodically spurred him on by clapping his hands at the trotting pace. But Ciel took considerable pride in the fact that even while he was puffing and sweating, his playing had not faltered for an instant.

 

Finally, Falco called a halt and had him hand over his fiddle and bow. "You did well; your music was always the joy!" the acrobat said cheerfully. "Practice the fast walking for an hour every morning and evening, and soon you will build up your strength until you will not even be breathing hard while playing. But now you just catch your breath, and watch me as I show you the fun dancing."

 

And with that, Falco set the fiddle to his shoulder and under his chin, and began skipping, hopping and capering about like a small child at play, which looked profoundly silly coming from a full-grown adult. Rather than actually play the violin, he waved the bow back and forth in the air while declaring cheerfully, "I do not play music like you; is not my talent! Instead, my body is my only instrument. But it is one that you have, too, and one that you can also play for fun! See?" And as he skipped and capered about, he sang, " _Capra, capretta, che bruchi tra l'erbetta, vuoi una manciatina, di sale da cucina? Il sale é salato, il bimbo é nel prato, la mamma é alla fonte, il sole é sul monte, sul monte é l'erbetta, capra, capretta_!"

 

Ciel had studied classical Latin more than Italian, but he knew enough to get the gist of the song Falco was singing. And his dancing really did bring to mind the sight of little goats romping in meadows... kids having fun, Ciel realized with a smile that had been startled into existence.

 

Maintaining his standing amongst the nobility of London and, more importantly, staying in the Queen's good favor meant that sometimes Ciel had been required to attend social events he couldn't get out of. That included soirees where he had to listen to other nobles singing, usually for the same reasons he played the violin; to show everyone that they had the well-rounded education required by their social rank. Ciel had also attended operas and concerts put on by true professionals, so he had some experience with singing voices of differing quality. Falco's voice was a mediocre tenor at best, but... the sheer _joy_ that Ciel could hear in his voice, somehow made up quite a bit for the lack of quality. Could the same be true for playing instruments? Could truly _enjoying_ what you were doing, make that much of a difference in all the performing arts?

 

After singing his _filastrocca_ twice through and making three dancing circuits around him, Falco stopped and bowed with a big flourish, then gestured to Ciel with the hand holding his violin bow. “Now, your turn! To start, don’t play the violin, just dance for fun as a little child does. Ah, I see your face, but do not worry about looking silly; this is _practice_!”

 

“It-it’s not that,” Ciel said, though really that was a very large part of his hesitation. And the rest… “I honestly don’t remember ever dancing for fun like that. If I did, then I haven’t done it for many years!”  

 

The smile Falco gave him was decidedly wry, and a tad condescending. “Smile, I think you are too young for saying ‘not for many years’. But still, I understand. That fancy noble you and your papa worked for, he did not like to see or hear children having fun, did he?”

 

Ciel had to bite back the impulse to respond with icy politeness, _Earl Phantomhive begs to differ._ His extremely successful business Funtom Company, which could have bought this entire circus and two more just like it, was certainly invested in children having fun! And moreover, Ciel didn’t appreciate aspersions cast on his character by someone who was clearly prejudiced against the upper class. But he and Sebastian had crafted the lie that Falco so wholeheartedly believed, so Ciel put on a suitably sad expression while saying, “Not really.”

 

“But there was joy in your life before then, yes? These last few years have been hard on you, that is plain to see, but before that… long before your mother died, rest her soul… Close your eyes for a moment, and think back,” Falco coaxed him. “Remember the smiles, the laughter, and then let your feet feel the happiness again.”

 

This could well turn out to be humiliating... but it wouldn't be as _painful_ as those cursed balancing exercises had been. And if he didn't at least put in serious effort at developing a performance, he'd be relegated to mere kitchen duty, and peeling potatoes for hours on end. So Ciel closed his eyes and sent his mind back several years ago, riffling through childhood memories for what Falco had suggested, smiles and laughter...

 

His mother smiling, as she leaned in to kiss his forehead. His father smiling, as he ruffled his hair (funny, he hadn't realized that at one time he'd actually liked that.) Aunt Anne smiling, as she read a book to him on one of her visits. Tanaka smiling, as he came into the nursery to let Ciel know it was time for dinner. Back then, all the servants had smiled whenever they saw him... But laughter?

 

For laughter, there was only one source: Lizzie.

 

Ciel had grown up always knowing that someday he would be married to his cousin, but that day was so very far away, like the sun high in the sky, and just as ubiquitous; he knew it but he never really thought about it, because what mattered far more to a child was having a _playmate_.   He used to wait eagerly for her visits, because while Sebastian was the very best dog in the world, and most of the servants were willing to indulge him in play when their duties permitted, it just wasn't the same as having someone his own age to play with. He remembered listening eagerly for the sound of their carriage on days that Lizzie and her mother would visit, and being barely able to wait for Tanaka to formally announce them before bursting from the nursery to clatter down the stairs towards the door, even as Lizzie rushed inwards to greet him.

 

On rainy days, they played in the nursery together. But on sunny days, they would go outside with Sebastian and romp on the great lawn, playing games for as long as Ciel's asthma and weak constitution would let them. Sometimes they'd sneak into the garden to see if the strawberries were ripe yet, or pretend they were great adventurers going to explore the forest (though someone always caught them before they went too far.)

 

Their relationship had started to change after Lizzie turned six years old, and both Aunt Francis and Aunt Anne began pressing her to act like a little lady. Then after Ciel turned six years old, his asthma took a turn for the worse; that was when they'd discovered he was allergic to cats, after petting a friendly wandering kitten sent him into sneezing and coughing spasms, that led into an attack that laid him out for three days straight. From then on, their afternoons together were generally more sedate, as they had tea parties and practiced manners befitting to their station. But sometimes, on days when he was feeling hale and hearty and when they'd managed to escape adult scrutiny for a little while, Lizzie would still play tag and other games in the garden with him.

 

He pictured Lizzie as she had been when they were small children together; only a little bit bigger than him, her shrill laughter drifting in the warm summer air and her golden hair shining bright as the sun as they played follow-the-leader: _Follow me! Skip like this, Ciel_!

 

Back then, he would have followed her _anywhere_.

 

He focused on that memory, made it sharp and vivid, until he felt he could truly see little Lizzie in front of him. Then he opened his eyes, but kept the vision of Lizzie dancing in front of him as he began to awkwardly skip in a circle.

 

Ciel just _knew_ that right that moment, on the other side of the tent, Sebastian had abandoned all pretense of practicing his juggling in order to gape incredulously at the sight of his master the _Earl Phantomhive, the_ _Queen's Watchdog_ , skipping about like a six-year-old.   But Falco was right there, and he actually cheered Ciel on with exclamations of "Good! A good start! Your feet are remembering how to have fun!"

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

After he finally remembered how to skip along at a decent pace, Falco handed his violin back and had him skip for a few minutes while simply holding it correctly, and then a few minutes more while playing the scales and other simple tunes. It was _hard_ at first, keeping his legs going like that while playing; he found himself slowing to a walk more than once, before angrily renewing the pace. Now instead of Lizzie, he could all too clearly envision his Aunt Frances scolding him, with her fencing blade in hand after thoroughly trouncing him at a lesson: _Your footwork is weak, Ciel_!

 

 

Nor was only his weak footwork an issue. The violin is well-known to be a temperamental instrument, unforgiving of the unskilled. It can make the sweetest music in the hands of a skilled player, melodies to rival the songbirds and perhaps even the angels themselves. But it only takes the slightest miscalculation or touch of carelessness on the violinist's part, for that heavenly music to become instead a hellish noise. Draw the bow across the strings at -not quite- the correct angle, or even just a little too hard; misplace a digit when fingering the strings on the always unmarked neck of the instrument, and the results can be a hideous screeching that makes the croaking of vultures sound pleasant in comparison. 

To make beautiful music on the violin requires concentration, long hours of practice, and _finesse_. Finesse that one does not normally associate with skipping and hopping! The first stage of the practice had not been a problem, as Ciel had little problem in keeping his upper body relatively still while simply walking. But skipping and hopping, movements that jostled the violin or the bow... It took every ounce of concentration that Ciel could muster, all the iron-hard control that he normally exerted over his face and body language when facing down hardened criminals or businessmen four times his age, to keep drawing the bow smoothly across the strings at just the right angle and just the right amount of pressure despite all the jostling going on. Doing his best to play 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat' while skipping and dancing to the 3/4 beat, Ciel couldn't help thinking that even _Sebastian's_ hardest lessons hadn't been as difficult as this. (Not that he'd ever, _ever_ tell the demon so!)

But Ciel persevered, both in his playing and his footwork, and over the next hour he eventually get the hang of skipping and hopping in rhythm with what he was playing. "Good! Good!" Falco said with a grin when Ciel was finally able to make a full circuit of the ring without pausing in either his dancing or his playing of nursery rhymes. But then he called the practice to a halt, as Jumbo came in and told everyone that it was time to prepare for the evening performance; newcomers were to help in the props tent.

 

The props tent was utter chaos, and both Ciel and Sebastian were kept busy running back and forth and rummaging through trunks to fetch or find this and that, costume pieces and all manner of props for performing, for nearly all of the next full hour. After all the time he'd spent practicing earlier, Ciel was fairly exhausted by the time the show actually started and most of the first-tier members left to either perform or wait in the wings for their turn. Sitting slumped over on a stool, it took Ciel a full five minutes to realize that right that minute, all the first-tier members were accounted for _and_ away from their tents... That this was an ideal opportunity to do a bit of sneaking around, looking for clues.

 

" _Oi_ , Da!" he called out to keep his cover, as he hopped off the stool and hurried over to where Sebastian was tidying up a bench full of scattered prop pieces. The circus folk were sure to think that he used "Da" as the common nickname for 'father'; only he and Sebastian knew that it was actually short for 'damn demon.'

 

Once they were together and close enough for whispers, he murmured, "This is an opportunity to do some investigating, even before we rise to first-tier status! All the first-tier members are away from their tents. I need you to go to their area first and clear out any snakes that might still be slithering about, lock them up, and then come back for me so we can--"

 

"Black!" a voice suddenly called form the tent entrance, and they turned to see Joker there, carrying Wendy on his back while a worried-looking Peter walked at his side. Joker explained, "Miss Wendy twisted her ankle, so she cun't appear in p'rformance 'nymoor. So Black, please go out in 'er place! The show'll be fine if _ye_ do it, Black, so I beg of yer!" And then even as Sebastian started to nod, Joker turned to head back out the door with Wendy, presumably to take her to the doctor's tent. The troupe leader tossed over his shoulder as he left, "It'll be yer turn shortly, so please git ready soon!"

 

" 'Tis a pity, young master. We'll have to wait for another chance," Sebastian murmured.

 

"Another opportunity will come, as soon as Wendy is ready to perform again," Ciel responded firmly, only somewhat disappointed. Some of the missing children had been gone for months already; a few more days' delay shouldn't make that much difference.

 

In the meantime, since trapeze work is usually performed in pairs or trios, 'Black' went to the show tent's anteroom with 'Smile' trailing behind him, to coordinate the performance routine with Peter. But Peter took one look up--and up--at him before giving a scornful huff. "Work with someone your size and weight? You'll rip my arms right out of their sockets. Just wait a minute; Joker's already getting your partner for the performance."

 

Even as Sebastian was demurring that he didn't weigh _that_ much, the tent flap opened again and Falco came in, wearing his leotard again and with some colorful fabric flung over his shoulder. "Ah, Black! They told you already?" he greeted them cheerfully. "Exciting, to be performing again so soon, eh? I have a spare costume for you, if you need it!"

 

But when he held out the orange-and-yellow leotard for Sebastian to take, Ciel's butler took one look at the garish costume and nearly flinched. "Really, must I wear that?"

 

"At least it's not _pink_ ," Ciel muttered just loud enough for him to hear, knowing it would evoke memories of one of Lizzie's recent visits to the manor and the pink bonnet she'd put on Sebastian 'to make him cuter.'

 

Sebastian flashed Ciel a very dirty look, so fast that he would have missed it if he hadn't been watching (and hoping) for it, before turning to Falco and asking, "You have seen how well I perform in my usual attire. Do you not own a suit that you can wear?"

 

"Hey, that's not a bad idea," Dagger said as he stepped inside, while Peter left to check on Wendy. "With both of you in suits, we could bill you as the Flying Gentlemen!"

 

Falco, however, looked extremely dubious. "I have a suit, one for funerals and weddings, but I have never performed in it; it does not make for moving as free as a leotard."

 

"I happen to have some skills at quick tailoring when necessary," Sebastian reassured him, firmly ushering him out of the show tent and over to the performers' quarters.

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Falco did indeed have a suit at the bottom of his trunk; a suitably black but badly wrinkled suit. And when he put it on to show Sebastian, it was clear that the suit had been bought off the rack at some cheap clothing store instead of tailor-made for him; not only was the fabric of a low quality that would never be found in the Phantomhive household, but it simply didn't fit him properly in the waist, chest or shoulders. For Abaddon's sake, even _Bard_ looked better in the cook's sole suit than Falco did at the moment.

 

But Sebastian was undeterred. Even as 'Black', he was employed in this contract as the butler to an earl, and he would not wear a garish leotard unless his master specifically ordered him to (which, thankfully, the young master had not.)   "Here, take it all off, and then see about polishing your shoes to a better shine while I do just a bit of work on your suit," he offered. Falco still looked highly dubious, but took the outfit off and gave it to Sebastian, while he dug out a shoeshine kit.

 

Sebastian took everything--suit jacket, trousers, waistcoat and shirt--back to the tent he now shared with his master. There he performed some fast tailoring on the shirt and jacket, based on what he'd calculated of Falco's measurements, as well ironing the entire ensemble. There was little he could do about the poor quality of the fabric without raising suspicions, but at least now it should fit Falco better while still allowing the freedom of movement necessary for a human to perform trapeze artistry.

 

He returned to Falco's tent, to find the other performer still polishing the first of his pair of shoes, and presented the suit to him; Falco put it on, while Sebastian gave the shoes a proper polishing. " _Fantastico_! It is so much better now; like a whole new suit!" Falco said with admiration as he put it on and turned this way and that.

 

"Oh, I can assure you, it is the same suit, with just a bit of work done to it," Sebastian said modestly as he handed over the shoes, which were now polished to a mirror finish.

 

" _Sei un mito_ ," Falco breathed in awe as he first saw his reflection in the shoes, and then looked at Sebastian with wide eyes. "Now I truly believe you were a fancy noble's butler!"

 

"One hell of a butler," the demon corrected him with a smile. "Now, what stunts shall we do for the performance, and in what order?"

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

When Sebastian and Falco came back in not-quite-matching suits, Dagger gave them a big thumb's-up and said, "Just in time; you'll be going on in five minutes!"

 

"Thanks to Black's great skills with clothing, we are ready!" Falco said cheerfully. "Smile, you go in now and find yourself a good seat, so you can watch your father's debut in this circus!"

 

Mindful of the circus's internal politics, Ciel turned to Dagger and asked, "May I?" being sure to look as eager as any young boy and proud son should.

 

"Aw, sure, go on in--but through the main entrance!" Dagger said, pointing off to the side. So Ciel hurried out and then back in through the main entrance, like any boy who'd just come in off the street to see the show. With all the bleacher seats taken, he ended up sitting in the sawdust outside the rings alongside a few other ragamuffins, all of whom were currently staring wide-eyed at the current act, Beast's performance with Betty the tiger. It was unclear at first whether the boys were staring at the massive tiger performing stunts on command, or at the scandalously dressed beast-trainer. (Overhearing some of their mutters, he decided they were split about evenly in their interests.)

 

Then Sebastian came out with Falco, the pair of them doffing identical top hats and bowing greetings to the audience as Joker introduced them as "Falco and Black, the Flying Gentlemen!" Ciel was slightly insulted that Falco had gotten first billing, but supposed that Falco's seniority (having been hired on over a month earlier) and the fact that his stage name was that of a high-flying bird probably had something to do with it.

 

Up in the trapeze, Falco and Sebastian put on a good performance; Ciel thought it was better than Peter and Wendy's performance that he'd seen a few nights before, but it was possible that he was biased. Still, it seemed that the crowd also thought they were very good, as there was plenty of _ooohing_ and _ahhing_ during their stunts, and vigorous applause when they were done. Even though Sebastian didn't do that highly prized triple somersault during the routine; he must have convinced Falco and Joker that it would be better to save that stunt for a later performance, when he was 'completely sure he could perform it without fail.' Just as well, as the newspaper reporters he’d spotted here and there in the crowd might decide to do a story about such an apparently amazing achievement, and Ciel didn't fancy having Lord Randall of Scotland Yard recognize the Watchdog’s butler in the newspapers the next day.

 

After everyone had come back out for the encore and the audience was dispersing, Ciel slipped through the crowds and over to the props tent, where the first-tier members were putting away their tools of the trade until the next performance. He ran first up to Sebastian and gushed with all due enthusiasm, "You were great up there, Da! The crowd really liked you!"

 

"Thank you, my boy," Sebastian said, getting in yet one more opportunity to familiarly ruffle his hair (seriously, that had to _stop. Now_.)

 

After giving his butler one more flash of teeth to communicate that they'd be _talking_ about that detestable habit _soon_ , Ciel turned to Falco—always best to stay on your tutor’s good side--and said just as brightly, "You were great up there too, _Zio_ Falco! You really were 'flying gentlemen'!"

 

"Thank you, _nipote_!" Falco said, beaming with pride and happiness. "It was good to hear the cheers of the crowd again!"

 

"Well done, both of ye!" Joker said heartily as he came over after putting his juggling gear away. "Now let's change out o' our performin' clothes an' have some supper!"

 

 

_Next: The Fine Art of Falling Down_

 


	5. The Fine Art of Falling Down

 

Following Sebastian's performance with Falco on the trapeze, with Ciel being allowed to watch their performance from a seat amidst the paying audience, Sebastian, Falco and Ciel were invited to join Joker and the other performers in the circus's dining tent for supper.   His stomach already starting to rumble with hunger, Ciel started to stride ahead of Sebastian towards their destination, as he always did. But he pulled up short at Joker's chuckling admonition to "Slow down, Smile; I promise ye they won't run out o' food b'fore we get there! Th' cooks know to save plenty fer them as wot performed t'night."

 

"Right, sorry," Ciel said with chagrin, though he felt it for a different reason than Joker thought. He was used to striding ahead of Sebastian, because a servant's place was behind his master. But now that he and Sebastian were pretending to be father and son, a good dutiful son would let his father take the lead, wouldn't he? Falling back to let Sebastian catch up and walk past, now it was his turn to walk behind his butler. And glare at Sebastian's back when he was sure no one was looking at him, because he was certain he'd seen his butler _smirk_ at his temporary discomfiture as he passed, the smug bastard.  

 

Walking into the dining tent on everyone's heels and following the group to a large and nearly empty table at the back, Ciel abruptly found himself the focus of several looks from other circus members they passed on the way to those tables, many of the looks being angry or resentful glares. It was a marked contrast to the looks he'd gotten from them yesterday evening and this morning, the few who had bothered to notice him at all; what had he done to set them off? He had no qualms about being disliked—indeed, as the Queen's Watchdog, he took something of a perverse pride in knowing just how many of the Underworld's inhabitants hated the very sight of him. But as he was known here as the newcomer 'Smile' instead of Earl Phantomhive, he'd rather prefer to know what these people hated him for.

 

He got his answer when one of them whispered to another just a little too loud (very likely deliberately, intending for him to hear), "...just got here _yesterday_ , and the little brat's already trying to worm his way into the first tier? I wonder whose arse he's kissing up to..."

 

Ah-hah. Envy, spurred by ambition; he should have known that was the case. Nothing he wasn't used to already, both from common citizens envious of 'the toffs' and from members of the Underworld wishing to get the better of the Watchdog, and it was nothing to concern himself over either. Ciel kept his gait smooth and face impassive as he walked past on Sebastian's heels. But he also noted that the envious whisperer got a response from his table companion; not half as loud, so Ciel overheard little of it, but the word 'son' was emphasized enough to be clearly audible. Word of his and "Black's" supposed relationship was spreading, then. Just as well, as Ciel didn't relish having to spread all the lies himself; so much easier to let the gossip mill already in operation establish his cover for him.

 

Peter and Wendy were already sitting on a bench at the large table, impatiently waiting for them, along with a stack of wooden plates and a bucket of battered-looking tin forks, table knives and spoons. Peter gave Ciel a cocked eyebrow when he noticed him walking with 'Black', but evidently decided not to say anything against a non-performer sitting with them. Dagger and Beast took seats on Peter and Wendy's side of the table, while Snake took a lone seat at the foot of the table, and Joker took his seat at the head of the table, while gesturing for Falco, 'Black' and 'Smile' to sit on the same side as Jumbo.

 

There was no sign of Doll, the high wire performer who so far hadn't said a single word within Ciel's hearing; he wondered if she was just terribly shy (an odd thing to think of a circus performer, but she did her solo act high above the audience and not interacting with anyone, so it was possible,) too shy to eat in a tent with everyone else, or if she was one of those silly girls who begged off eating full meals because they feared gaining even a single ounce of weight.

 

Ciel took a seat on the bench between Sebastian and Falco, but just as Dagger started passing around the tableware, Ciel noticed from the corner of his eye that Freckles was coming in through the tent flap. Hmm, an opportunity to score a few congeniality points with both his new mentor and the first-tier members. He turned to Joker and slapped on a hopeful expression as he asked with what he judged to be just the right amount of hesitance, "Um, Joker, can, er, would it be okay if Freckles sits with us too?"

 

It was one of the first rules of both running a business empire and operating in High Society: _Always ask questions that you already know the answer to._ Sebastian had observed earlier that Freckles seemed to be secretly favored by the first-tier members; a few people at the table looked surprised at his question, but most of them smiled, and Joker immediately said, "O' course Freckles c'n sit wi' ye here!" before turning to wave and halloo at the boy, beckoning him over. Falco, who'd urged him a few hours ago to become good friends with Freckles for some as-yet-unknown reason, smiled and nodded to him in approval even while scooting down a space, to make room for the boy to sit next to Ciel.

 

"Now mind ye, sittin' here an' being served instead o' lining up fer yer food wi' th'rest is a priv'lege reserved fer those who perform that night," Joker reminded the newcomers to the table as one of the kitchen staff came to their table with a tray of savory-smelling meat pies. "An' fer their friends an' family, o' course!"

 

"Of course, of course," Falco agreed congenially, a sentiment echoed by Ciel and Sebastian both as Ciel neatly speared for himself a meat pie from the tray as it was passed down the table. Then he took a scoop from the bowl of mashed potatoes that was handed to him, before passing it on to Sebastian. There was no vegetable course, not that Ciel particularly missed it. He picked up his fork, reflecting that this meal was a vast improvement over the ordeal he'd undergone at breakfast that morning, struggling against a veritable sea of hungry circus members for any food at all, and ending up with just one small roll for all his troubles before Freckles had taken pity on him. It was still very plain fare, a far cry from the delicious and aesthetically pleasing meals he was customarily served by Sebastian, but one must occasionally sacrifice to maintain cover while on missions for Her Majesty, he thought to himself before tucking in.

 

Then Falco asked with clear concern in his voice, "Black, so little for you? Do you not feel well, my friend?"

 

Uh-oh. Ciel glanced to his right and noticed that Sebastian, who normally never ate a bite of human food, had apparently decided to echo his master's meal decisions in order to fit in at the dinner table; his plate held just one small meat pie and just one small scoop of mashed potatoes. Which was enough for someone of Ciel's size, if they were saving room for dessert (a habit of his that was probably a mistake here, now that he thought about it), but in comparison with the mounds of food on nearly everyone else's plate, it was apparently not even half of what might be expected for an adult human after hours of practice and preparation culminated in a high-energy performance.

 

Thinking quickly, he turned to look up at Sebastian as he said earnestly, "We're not at that horrible place anymore, Da; maybe the rules are different here?" Then he gave Joker a beseeching look as he asked with just a hint of quaver to his voice, "Are they? Is it... is it okay if we both eat our fill here? Back where we used to work, the master said I was too small to do as much work for him as an adult servant would, so he'd only let me stay there if he didn't have to spend any more money on me. So Da had to pay for my uniform from his own salary, and skimp on his own meals to make sure I got something to eat too. I know I'm not ready to perform yet, but... "

 

Expressions of dismay abounded from around the table, while Falco growled something in Italian that was _extremely_ uncomplimentary towards that mythical master. Joker declared, "Money's allus a bit tight 'round here, but na' _that_ tight! Here, both o' ye fill yer plates," as he whistled for the server's attention and asked for the trays to be brought back around for them.

 

"Oh, all this fuss over me really isn't necessary," Sebastian demurred with a smile that only Ciel could tell was rather strained, as Jumbo sitting on Sebastian's right smiled while heaping the demon's plate high with meat pies and mashed potatoes. He only stopped protesting when Ciel, who had taken another meat pie for himself as well, gave him a hard pinch under the table and bared his teeth in a grin as he said cheerfully, "Eat Hearty, Da!"

 

Sebastian dutifully ate everything on his plate, and even managed to come up with a carefully-worded compliment for such plain fare, enhancing it with a smile for the cook (who blushed and beamed at him, while Ciel struggled to keep from rolling his eyes.) But about halfway through the meal... Something must have happened, because Sebastian went _strange_ again.  

 

The rest of the table didn't appear to notice anything different about 'Black', but that was to be expected as they'd known him in his current role for less than two days. But Ciel had been around that demon day in and day out for a little over three years now, and he could tell immediately that something wasn't right. Still pushing the last few bits of mashed potatoes around on his plate, Sebastian suddenly began exuding that same 'troubled/preoccupied' feeling that Ciel had noted yesterday, just as they were being introduced to Falco.

 

Ciel glanced around the tent, to see if he could notice anything odd... well, yes, all the circus folks were odd one way or another, but nothing that would bother a demon. So he looked at Sebastian again, hoping to follow his gaze to whatever was setting him off this time--and was surprised to find the demon staring right back at him with his brow slightly furrowed in... concern? Sebastian was _worried_ about him?

 

...Bloody Hell, was there really _cat meat_ in these meat pies?! Ciel knew there were some people poor enough to consider even stray cats as a food source, but— No, that couldn't be it; his cat-loving demon would be tearing the place down around their ears, instead of worrying about his master having an allergic reaction to something he ate.

 

His conjecture was suddenly disrupted when Freckles, who'd piled his plate high with at least twice as much food as Ciel had taken, finished off his dinner with a contented burp—without even a simple 'pardon me'! These lower classes really had no manners at all—and then asked with a grin, "Hey, Smile, wanna play marbles? If you ain't got any, I'll loan you a few fer the game."

 

As a matter of fact, Ciel did have marbles; an entire box full of them, which had just been sent to him as production samples by a German glassmaking company that was subcontracting for Funtom Company. But that box of marbles was sitting on a shelf back at Phantomhive Manor, so he said only, "Thanks; I'd like to play!" And then, partly to keep up the pretense of a dutiful son, he turned to Sebastian and asked, "Can we go play marbles, Da? Is that all right with you?" _Are you going to behave yourself while out of my sight, you oddly acting demon? Or are you sensing some supernatural danger fast approaching us?_

 

If whatever was troubling the demon would be dangerous to his master, all Sebastian would have to do is say "I'd prefer you didn't," and Ciel would make up the rest of the reason for their audience; probably something about needing an early bedtime, since these circus folks got up at such a hideously early hour. But Sebastian said after just a moment's hesitation, "Of course it's all right. Just mind that you stay warm while playing; I'm sure you don't want to catch a chill and risk falling ill."

 

Was that really all that had Sebastian so concerned? Well, questioning him more closely would have to wait until later when they were alone in their tent; for now, Ciel excused himself from the table to trot after Freckles. Once they were outside the dining tent, Freckles said, "Let's go play in the practice tent; got plenty of room there right now, since a lot of folks are still eating! I'm gonna go get the marbles; you go on ahead and draw us a ring for playing, okay?"

 

"Okay," Ciel agreed as they parted ways. The top of the practice tent was easily visible over the smaller tents, so he cut between the medical tent and the circus animals' wagons to head straight for it, pondering as he walked just how skilled he should appear at marbles. Marbles was a childhood game that he'd played a lot when he was much younger, because it was one of the few games that his father enjoyed playing with him (Vincent Phantomhive had seen marbles as a fine precursor to playing billiards.)

 

Little Ciel had played Ring Taw, Boss-Out, Poison, and other marbles games with his father, but not just his father; he'd also played the games with Lizzie, with cousin Edward, and with every servant who was willing to indulge him in between their other duties to the household. He'd gotten so skilled at ring taw marbles, with nearly each shot of his tolley knocking mibs out of the inner ring, that Vincent Phantomhive had joked more than once that he'd take the boy down to the championship tournaments at Tinsley Green in West Sussex, and enter him under a false identity so his father could place some bets and collect winnings by the hatful.

 

Ciel hadn't played marbles much at all since the Fire, preferring to play billiards with his adult associates instead. But when the sample marbles had arrived from Germany he'd set up a ring on his office floor and played a few rounds against imaginary opponents—just to test the quality of the product, of course!—and incidentally proved that he still had the aim and skills of a master. But if he won too easily against Freckles tonight, then the other boy would—

 

— ** _whump_** —

 

Ciel yelped in shock and protest as something shoved him _hard_ on his blinded side, sending him sprawling to the cold muddy ground.

 

His breath was mostly knocked out of him by the impact with hard earth, but he'd been beaten and abused far too often in the last few years to let that stop him. He rolled over enough to glare at whoever had shoved him; somebody still mostly hidden by the black shadow of the props tent, but the vague silhouette he could make out said it was a slender male, below average size, probably still a teenager, and likely one of the second-tier performers.

 

His deduction was reinforced when his attacker spoke in a voice still coarse with adolescence, sneering, "Don't go thinking you're somebody special just 'cause you ate with the first-tiers tonight! You're still just a kid, and I _yyiiiii_!" as the sneer abruptly became a strangled yelp when a shape rose up in the tent shadow, a blackness far darker than night, to grab the teen by the collar and hoist him skyward. Sebastian was there... and Sebastian was _not_ pleased with him.

 

With the teen's pale face thrust forward into the lamplight of the midway, Ciel confirmed his identity as one of the envious whisperers from the dining tent earlier. Sebastian's face was still in shadow, but his voice rumbled and echoed as he asked the frightened attacker-turned-victim dangling in midair, "Did you think yourself _clever_ , to attack on his blinded side?" And in the depths of the darkness, his eyes began to glow cerise—

 

"Seb—Da, _no_! Don't hurt him!" Ciel said urgently as soon as he'd caught his breath enough to speak. He wouldn't mind seeing that bully _horsewhipped_ for daring to lay hands on him, but Sebastian seemed to be just instants away from letting his true nature show, and if that happened there'd likely be nothing left of the teen but a few bloodstains—and besides, if he learned of Sebastian's true nature, they'd have to kill him anyway.    But it would make their investigation into the missing children much harder, if they ended up under investigation for murder themselves!

 

"Black?!" "Black, wo'happen?!" Voices came from the direction of the dining tent, as Falco and what seemed like half the first-tier members came running towards them. Sebastian's eyes stopped glowing and he stepped forward into the lamplight, setting the bully back on his feet though still keeping an iron grip on his collar.

 

"Da, I'm all right, honest! He just pushed me down," Ciel reassured his butler as he got to his feet. His clothes were muddy now, cold and clammy and possibly torn a bit as well, but he himself would probably have no more than a light bruise or two. What was _with_ Sebastian tonight?! Normally the most he would have done is chide Ciel for not paying more attention to his surroundings, and _tsk_ a few times over the state of his clothes; the demon _never_ came swooping in like an avenging angel when Ciel hadn't called out for him, when there wasn't even any blood!

 

"You ran out so fast, like there was a fire!" Falco called out to Sebastian at the same time that Joker barked, "Marten, wot happened?"

 

Sebastian flicked his wrist as he let go of the bully now dubbed Marten—how fitting; a small predator that occasionally falls prey to larger predators—and there was enough inhuman strength behind that minute gesture to send the teen careening away from him and crashing right into Jumbo's broad chest as the circus members caught up with them. "I heard my boy cry out, and I found this one standing over him after knocking him into the mud," Sebastian explained coolly. "Is that considered acceptable behavior for second-tier members?"

 

"I-I didn't lay a hand on him!" Marten protested, even as Jumbo helped steady him on his feet. "The kid slipped and fell down! I came along and was just about to help him up when Black got here and attacked me! Just _attacked_ me for no reason; _he's **crazy**_!" as the teen actually dodged behind Jumbo's broad back, to peer fearfully at Sebastian from behind the tattooed giant.

 

 _Right, that's enough_. Ciel had been willing to let Marten go with just the blatant physical warning he'd already been given, as the teen would probably steer well clear of 'Smile' and his protector from now on. But while Ciel had long since made a habit of insulting Sebastian whenever he had a reasonable excuse to do so, he would _not_ allow others to malign his butler!

 

"Oh, so I just _imagined_ that shove that hit me on my blind side?" he demanded of Marten with a scowl. "That _bullying, cowardly_ move that knocked me down? And next you're going to claim I just _imagined_ hearing your voice taunting me about being nothing but a kid, right before Da came running up? I suppose you think that being here before us means— _whaah_?" as Sebastian suddenly swept him off his feet, into his usual carrying position.

 

"Let the first-tier members believe who they will, and punish who they will," Sebastian said loudly enough for the others to hear while carrying him away. "Right now you need to get out of those ruined clothes and into warm and dry attire, before you catch a chill!" Incensed at being cut off like that, Ciel was sorely tempted to box Sebastian's ears and _order_ him to set him down this instant, but he dared not do so in front of witnesses. Damnation, he was being _seriously constrained_ by this 'dutiful son' role!

 

As soon as they were inside their tent, Ciel started berating his overreacting butler, but found himself stymied at every turn by Sebastian's new Nanny-at-Full-Throttle behavior! He opened his mouth to curse—and Sebastian popped in a thermometer whipped out of the butler's jacket pocket, firmly closing his lips around it. He lifted a hand to slap—and Sebastian tugged his shirt off over his arm, undressing him in a black whirlwind of motion. In short order he was down to his smallclothes, and it was only when Sebastian turned away for a moment to pull out more clothes for him to wear that Ciel was able to spit the thermometer out and shout, " _Stop_!" while flipping up his eyepatch; he felt the burn of the contract seal in his eye flaring, reinforcing the order.

 

Sebastian instantly froze in his tracks, compelled by the order, and Ciel stalked around him to snatch the nightshirt from his grip and shrug it on, only because it was too blasted _cold_ to just stand around in his smallclothes. He glared angrily up at his butler while demanding, "What is going on with you?! You're taking this 'caring father' role much too far! You can at least drop the act when we're alone!" Sebastian looked back at him with that elegant brow creased in concern again; concern and _confusion_ , which disturbed Ciel far more than he'd ever want to admit to anyone. Sebastian of all creatures should never appear as anything less than perfectly composed at all times! Looking so confused made the demon seem... too _human_...

 

Sebastian said rather helplessly, "Master, I'm deeply sorry, but I honestly do not understand my own actions at the moment... or rather, I do not understand my _motivation_ for acting as I did. I see you standing before me as hale as you have ever been, but something keeps informing me that your life is currently endangered due to a grave illness!"

 

"Well, that 'something' is clearly wrong," Ciel growled. "I swear, you're being even more overly-cautious about my wellbeing than my old servants back when I was getting over bouts of asthma—"

"Asthma!" Sebastian exclaimed, and suddenly the black whirlwind was back. This time when it stopped, Ciel found himself flat on his back in bed with the covers pulled up to his chin, and tucked into the bed so firmly that he could scarcely do more than wiggle in place a little. And Sebastian was nowhere in sight, but that state of affairs only lasted for a few seconds; by the time Ciel managed to snake one hand up his torso and force it out from under the covers to begin freeing himself, Sebastian was back with his arms full of a thick leatherbound book, a steel bowl, a mortar and pestle, and a wicker basket stuffed full of plants, only a few of which Ciel recognized. The medical textbook landed on their tent's small table already open to a particular page, and the mortar and pestle pounded more rapidly than a woodpecker at full speed as Sebastian began preparing some noxious-smelling poultice from the herbs he'd brought in.

 

"Bloody—Sebastian, **_stop_**! I _don't have_ asthma anymore!" Ciel snarled as he fought his way free of the covers. He finally managed to throw them off and sit upright as he continued, "I've _grown out_ of that miserable condition; I haven't had an asthma attack since I was nine!"

 

Still frozen in place with the mortar and pestle in his hands, Sebastian looked at him uncertainly as he inquired, "You're quite certain of that, my lord? I... seem to remember you coughing a great deal..."

 

"What, that cold I had last autumn? That was just a common cold, you said so yourself, and it lasted only a week at the most. Yes, my mother never outgrew her asthma, but I'm stronger than she was!" Ciel insisted as he got out of bed. "I'll probably never have asthma again—so long as a certain irritating and idiotic butler doesn’t expose me to _cat hairs_ and aggravate my allergies!" as he administered a pointed glare at that same idiot butler.

 

Once more wearing his usual placid smile, Sebastian made all the medical supplies vanish and then bowed from the waist as he said, "My deepest apologies for my odd behavior, my lord; it shan't happen again. And I shall be more careful concerning cat hair exposure in the future." Straightening up from the bow, he said smoothly, "May I suggest you get back into bed now?"

 

Ciel glared with arms crossed as he informed his clearly thickheaded servant, "I just said, I'm not sick at all! And I'm not a _child_ to be tucked in at eight o'clock sharp anymore, either, so there's no good reason for me to get back under the covers right now!"

 

Just then, Freckles called from outside the tent, "Smile, you okay?" and flipped the tent flap aside to walk right in without waiting for an answer.

 

Ciel suppressed an _eep!_ as he realized that he was standing in front of company, completely bare-legged! ...But then, Freckles was just another boy, so it really didn't matter, did it?

 

"Falco told me what happened; Marten's getting a talking-to from Joker right now," Freckles told him while giving him a quick glance up and down. "Not hurt, are you?"

 

Telling himself that he was **_not_** blushing, Ciel tugged the nightshirt hem down as far as it would go (because the night air was _chilly_ , that's all) as he replied, "I'm fine, Freckles; my Da just wants me in bed already, because he worries about me too much," as he cast a quick glare over at his butler.

 

Freckles frowned, but instead of directing that frown at Sebastian it was aimed right at Ciel as he said, "Don't go scorning your dad for worrying over you! You should be thankful instead; some of us has either long lost or ain't never had the luxury of a parent that even gave tuppence for us!"

 

...Well, at least now the blush looked appropriate, Ciel decided as he turned to Sebastian with what he hoped was a contrite expression. "Freckles is right, Da; I'm sorry." _But don't you dare ever remind me of this moment again, you smug bastard.._.

 

"Apology accepted, my boy," Sebastian said with a fond smile. (And a wicked gleam in his eye that told Ciel that no, he would not be allowed to forget this humiliating moment any time soon.)

 

"So I s'pose there's no playing marbles tonight, then?" Freckles asked while hefting the bag of marbles he'd brought with a rather wistful expression.

 

"On the contrary," Sebastian said as he turned to the boy with a smile, "I see no reason why you and my boy cannot play right here in our tent; I believe we have just enough floor space for doing so. Smile, perhaps you can put on trousers and footwear while our guest creates the playing field," as he produced a folding peasant knife from a pocket and handed it to Freckles for use.

 

Ciel hadn't been expecting that response at all, but he supposed it was actually a fair compromise, a partial solution to the issue created by whatever was plaguing his butler's mind at the moment. It was plain that Sebastian didn't want to let his master our of his sight right now, but they also needed to cultivate this beginning friendship with Freckles, to get closer to the first -tier members in order to continue their investigation. So he tugged on a pair of trousers as well as shoes and socks, though he felt terribly mismatched in wearing a nightshirt over it all, while Freckles scratched a seven-foot-wide circle in the tent floor with a much smaller circle in the center.

 

Sitting in their tent's only chair, Sebastian watched with a smile as Ciel got down in the dirt on his hands and knees, just as Freckles finished putting seventeen marbles inside the inner circle—only seventeen mibs? That was likely all the boy had, Ciel decided—and then handed him one of the two larger marbles left in his sack with a cheerful, "Lucky I got an extra tolley, innit?" Ciel agreed as he knuckled down for the lagging shots, to determine who would go first in the game. He deliberately overshot the lag line, letting Freckles go first; he needed to gauge the other boy's skill level before deciding how well he would play in his turn.

 

It turned out that Freckles was a decent marbles player, but not a great one. Since he didn't know yet if the boy would be a sore loser, Ciel had to deliberately miss a few shots in order to let him win by a few points in the first game. Then he kept just one or two points ahead of the other boy to win the second game, before deliberately losing the third. It rankled his pride to let someone beat him in _any_ game, but Ciel reminded himself again that it was all part of his cover, and necessary to solve the case for Her Majesty.

 

Just as Freckles won the third game, Sebastian covered his mouth in an ostentatious yawn before suggesting, "I believe it's time for bed, my boy. Don't forget, we need to rise early, to participate in making breakfast!"

 

Taking the obvious cue from his butler, Ciel faked a yawn as well. "Sorry, Freckles, but he's right. Can we play again some other time?"

 

"Sure!" Freckles beamed as he gathered up the marbles. "I'm sure glad you two joined up, Smile. It's great having someone else like me around! See you guys at breakfast," as he started to leave.

 

Someone like him? Someone roughly his age who also liked marbles? Then Ciel pushed the question from his mind for a moment as he said hurriedly, "Hey, before you go, could I ask a favor about tomorrow?"

 

"Like what?" Freckles asked, pausing at the tent flap with a questioning look.

 

"Well, you saw how poorly I did when I was helping with breakfast this morning," Ciel said with his eyes on the floor, looking embarrassed—which wasn't hard at all in this instance. "I know Falco's my mentor in performing now, but maybe you could mentor me in other things? Such as how to peel potatoes the right way?"

 

Freckles agreed with a grin, and then left to presumably go back to the tent he shared with Falco now. After the other boy was well out of earshot, Sebastian commented with one elegant eyebrow cocked at him, "Master, I confessed to being surprised; both by your request and whom you made it of. You truly wish to improve your skills on such a mundane task that one would never expect of the landed gentry? And you asked _Freckles_ to tutor you, when here stands someone who has peeled countless potatoes and other root vegetables while preparing your dinners for the last three years?"

 

"What, don't tell me you're _jealous_ that I asked him instead of you?" as Ciel smirked at him. "No, I have no desire whatsoever to improve my skill at such common work, though I accept that I'll need to do it for a while longer," as he took off his shoes, socks and trousers, handing them all to Sebastian for folding and putting away. "Asking Freckles to be my mentor in peeling potatoes serves a twofold purpose, the more important being that Freckles clearly enjoys having someone to mentor; someone to feel superior to while exhibiting compassion and aiding them in their inexperience. The more Freckles enjoys mentoring me, the more he likes and associates with me, the more his first-tier friends will accept us, and the more opportunities we'll have to investigate them in our mission to find the missing children."

 

"I see; that was clever of you, young master," Sebastian flattered him while accepting the eyepatch Ciel took off just before crawling under the covers of the lower bunk. "And the secondary purpose?"

 

"If I handle him just right during the 'mentoring' process, Freckles should end up doing at least half of the peeling for me," Ciel yawned as he snuggled into his pillow. "Good night..."

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Sometime during the night, Ciel woke up with a rather urgent need to be attended to. But of course these circus folks didn't have proper plumbing, which meant he had to relieve the discomfort using a primitive chamberpot, as if they were no better than medieval peasantry. (When he did find those missing children, they'd better be damn grateful to him for all this trouble he was going to on their behalf.)

 

When he was finished, he handed the chamberpot to Sebastian for dealing with—or rather he would have done that, but Sebastian wasn't standing there waiting to receive it. A quick look around revealed that Sebastian wasn't sitting at the tent's small table, nor was he lying in the upper bunk, though Ciel thought he remembered Sebastian climbing up there as he was drifting off to sleep. But there was something lying on the upper bunk: a neatly folded butler's uniform. Where would Sebastian go _without any clothing on_? Ciel almost summoned him to find out—then thought of how Sebastian was apt to appear when summoned, blushed and decided the question could wait until morning.

 

But even as he crawled back under the covers, the question still nagged at his mind, and he finally decided that Sebastian had shed his uniform to deal with his own ablutions; surely even demons had to do a bit of washing-up from time to time. And given Ciel's memories of that scalding-hot bath Sebastian had tried to give him that first night after they formed the contract, a demon's preferred bath might well be in a tub full of boiling water hot enough to melt skin from bones. Honestly, he wouldn't be overly surprised if he found out that Sebastian had decided to trot down to Liverpool and jump into the _SS Britannic_ 's main boiler for a nice soak.

 

But now that he thought about it, the unusual lack of clothing might be because the demon had felt the need to deal with a different bodily issue; namely, dealing with what he'd been forced to eat at dinner that night. Ciel was hardly a biologist or expert in demon anatomy, but he did know that all living creatures dealt with excess ingested food by expelling it in one form or another. Most creatures had nether orifices for excretion, but owls coughed up the remains of their prey as pellets instead, and he thought he remembered reading about some insects or other tiny organisms that oozed it through their skin... _Ughh_. No matter how Sebastian got rid of that food, whether as demon poo, demon pellets or demon paste, Ciel was just glad he had apparently chosen to do it far away from their tent. Shuddering in distaste, he pressed deeper into the pillow and willed himself to go back to sleep.

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

"Ahh, my bold striped beauty..."

 

" _Rrrrrr_..."

 

"Oh, you like that, don't you? So do I..."

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

The next morning still came far too early, but Sebastian made up for rousing Ciel so early by giving him a cup of suitably strong tea to help him wake up, and by dressing Ciel properly to face the day before Freckles could poke his head in the door.

 

The breakfast preparations went far better than the previous morning's had as well. It only took the slightest manipulation on Ciel's part to get Freckles to sit right next to him with the bucket of potatoes for peeling, showing him the proper technique for peeling them, and incidentally peeling a large number of the potatoes in the process. But as an interesting side note, he tried copying Freckles' technique, and did indeed see a vast improvement in his own work in just that one lesson. He still wasn't half as fast at peeling as Freckles was, nor quite as adept at making such shallow and long peels, but at least when he was done there was more potato left in his hands than in the peels bucket at his feet. He thanked Freckles for the lesson before taking the bucket of peeled potatoes over to Sebastian, and the other boy beamed in satisfaction.

 

Just as had happened yesterday morning, the charge of hungry troupe members for breakfast nearly swept Ciel off his feet, and by the time he got to the food servers all that was left for him was a pair of small rolls... until Sebastian produced a good-sized meat pie from behind his back and set it on Ciel's plate, with an ostentatious wink while stage-whispering for the benefit of the other cooks, "What sort of father would I be, if I let my boy go hungry?"

 

"Thanks, Da!" Ciel said with a smile before turning away to go sit next to Freckles again.

 

After breakfast he went to the practice tent for further development of his performance routine, under the mentorship of Sebastian's trapeze partner Falco. After reviewing and practicing what they had come up with yesterday, skipping and doing small dance steps while playing lively children's tunes on his violin, Falco asked him, "Can you play your fiddle while holding it in different ways?"

 

"Trick fiddling? I've never done it before... but I don't see why not," Ciel mused aloud, before trying a few new positions. Fiddling while holding the instrument straight in front of him instead of to the side was actually quite easy, though he did have to brace the violin base against his chest instead of on his shoulder. Then he quickly figured out how to fiddle while holding it upright like a miniature cello, and played a few tunes that way as well.

 

"Good! Good!" Falco said encouragingly. "For the idea I thought of last night, you will have to hold the fiddle differently at the end of your act. I was worried this would be problem, but is no problem for you at all!"

 

"And what idea is this?" Ciel asked curiously.

 

"One that is sure to please the crowds, and one that I thought of when you got up after Marten knocked you down last night," Falco said with a wry twist to his smile. "Not that he should be thanked for giving me the idea! This is how it goes," as he stood up with two sticks in his arms, one being stout with a thick knot at the base and another very thin, which were evidently supposed to represent Ciel's fiddle and bow.

 

He skipped and capered around the practice ring, sawing the thin stick against the fat one, while saying, "You play tunes while dancing for a few minutes, two full times around the ring. But just as you finish going round the second time, you pretend to trip," as he matched actions to words, seeming to stumble and spin, "and fall down on your back," as he went down with a big puff of sawdust, his feet flying up in the air. "But then you finish playing your tune while you are down!" as he held the sticks up and vigorously sawed them together. "Ta-daah!"

 

"Ex _cuse_ me?!" Ciel said with icy politeness. Mission be damned, there were some things he absolutely _would not_ do! "I am _not_ going to be a _clown_!"

 

Falco sat up in the sawdust, frowning at him while shaking his head. "This is not being a clown, Smile. You could not be a clown, because that is serious work, and you are too young to bear such a great burden."

 

"..." as Ciel could only gape at him incredulously.

 

Falco nodded solemnly as he assured him, "My brother, he would sit you down and explain what it is to truly be a clown. And when he was done, you would be weeping and vowing to name your firstborn after him. I will not do that; I will just tell you again that adding this one thing to your act will not make you a clown."

 

Falco flopped backwards into the sawdust again, and then he said while lying supine and pretending to fiddle, "This finishing touch is funny, yes, but it is more than that. It warms the hearts of the audience, when they see that you are so determined to entertain that you do not let falling down stop you! Determination, dedication; the marks of greatness, yes? It takes much dedication and determination to make every performance in circus show. But the audience, they will not know the many hours you put into practice, to entertain them with happy music. They will not know of your dedication, your determination... until you do this, and then they will know. And yes, they will laugh, but they will also applaud you!" Falco flexed his torso and somehow flipped himself back up to a standing position as he finished, "And when you get to your feet again, still playing last few notes for them, then they will applaud even more!"

 

That... that actually sounded slightly appealing, in a twisted sort of way. (Ciel really hoped that wasn't a sign that he was sinking too far into his role.)

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

After the demonstration, Ciel set the violin aside for a few hours while Falco showed him how to fall down without hurting himself. There were several methods of cushioning the impact, but some of them couldn't be used because Ciel had to use his arms to hold his violin and bow, and shield them from damage during impact. Finally, Falco decided that the best way of doing it would be to add some cushioning to the rear of his costume (they made do for now by tying a thin pillow to his bum), and aim his 'stumble, twist and fall' move to land on his butt with his legs stretched out to absorb some of the impact. And to promptly roll backwards from that landing, flinging his feet into the air; if he did it quickly enough, the audience would never notice that it was actually a two-stage maneuver.

 

After determining the best way for 'Smile' to fall, they practiced the move for the next two hours straight; first with nothing in his hands at all, then with the thick and thin sticks that Falco had brought in to substitute as his violin and bow. Only when Ciel had become accomplished in falling safely, rolling onto his back and beginning to 'fiddle' again did Falco hand him his fragile musical instrument and say it was time to try it with the music.

 

"May I please have a short break first, to drink some water and rest my rear for a bit?" Ciel shamelessly begged, resisting the impulse to rub his aching bum as he did so. Even with all the sawdust cushioning the dirt floor of the practice tent and with the pillow providing additional cushioning for his rump, falling down was a little painful. Quickly rolling back onto his spine was also a little painful, and repeatedly doing both moves in succession was _more than a little_ painful.

 

"I do beg your pardon for interrupting the lesson," Sebastian said as he approached them (with impeccable timing so far as Ciel was concerned; just what one should expect from the Phantomhive butler), "but Falco, I suggest you come join me on the trapeze for a warm-up session. It's nearly time for the matinee performance, and Joker has informed me that we shall be standing in for Peter and Wendy again."

 

"Ah, of course! Yes, time to warm up before performing," Falco agreed with a grin. "Smile, you take fifteen-minute break, yes? But only fifteen minutes; you must begin practicing on your own by the time we leave to dress for the matinee performance!"

 

Ciel agreed before he went over to the water barrel to get himself a long drink, and then flopped onto a nearby bench to rest on his stomach (sitting down was utterly out of the question at the moment.)   _It's all for the mission, all for Her Majesty_ , he reminded himself with a groan. _But if those damn butlers of hers ever appear in the audience and see me falling over like that, I'll simply have to shoot them afterwards_...

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Since he knew he had to do it in order to maintain his cover, Ciel got up with a groan and went back to practicing his routine when the fifteen minutes were up, just as Falco and Sebastian dropped down from the trapeze rigging and went to get ready for the circus's matinee performance. For the next hour, he dutifully practiced skipping and dancing about while playing simple nursery tunes, and then falling over in the midst of playing the last one, to finish while lying supine in the sawdust. (He would definitely need to have Sebastian shampoo his hair clean that evening.) Falco had suggested playing while getting back on his feet again as well, but that acrobatic torso-flexing move Falco had done was utterly beyond him right now; he couldn't even sit upright again without pausing in his fiddling to free one hand for pushing himself back up.

 

After over an hour of solo practice, Ciel felt like he was one big ache from head to toe. But he'd timed his playing while dancing about the ring, and figured out which five songs he could play in that time, with two verses each as Falco had suggested (enough time for the audience to recognize each tune, but not enough time for them to begin tiring of it as no one would be singing the lyrics while he played.)

 

Summoning the same grim determination he brought to all his missions as the Queen's Watchdog, Ciel began his thirty-seventh practice run, just as the tent flap opened and Falco and 'Black' came back from their performance... followed in short order by all the first-tier performers, who gathered around and behind Falco and Black as the trapeze artist whistled and waved Ciel over. _Uh-oh_...

 

Feeling inexplicably nervous, Ciel swallowed hard as he stopped playing and trotted over to stand in front of Falco. "Yes, _Zio_ Falco?" he asked, throwing in the Italian endearment because if ever there was a time for kissing up to the teacher, this was surely it.

 

Falco grinned down at him as he said, "Smile, I have been telling the first-tier members about the routine we have been working on for you, and they want to see it! Are you ready to show them?"

 

Ciel swallowed hard again, but plastered on a big smile and said as cheerfully as possible, "Yes, sir!" And with a bow to his impromptu audience, he set the violin to his chin and began his routine:

 

Skip, step, skip, pivot right, bow to the audience, pivot left, skip, hop, skip, left again, bow to the imaginary audience on the other side of the tent, pivot right, skip backwards, skip forwards, high-kick, and start all over again. And all the while playing the very first nursery rhyme he had played for Falco, which was also the obvious first choice for a circus fiddler:

 _Hey, diddle diddle,_  
_The cat and the fiddle,_  
_The cow jumped over the moon,_  
_The little dog laughed to see such sport,_  
_And the dish ran away with the spoon_!

Play it through one more time, to give all the audience enough time to recognize the tune and appreciate it. Then lift the bow well away, wave it while leaping high into the air—signal the audience of breaking away to a new melody! Never give the audience time to get bored with any tune.

 

Now slow the skipping just a trifle, to stay in rhythm with the fiddling for the next rhyme:

 _Baa, baa, black sheep,_  
_Have you any wool?_  
_Yes, sir, yes, sir,_  
_Three bags full._  
_One for the master,_  
_One for the dame,_  
_One for the little boy_  
_Who lives down the lane._

Speed up again for the next tune, and add in a complete twirl in place with every third skip for:

 _Here we go round the mulberry bush,_  
_The mulberry bush,_  
_The mulberry bush._  
_Here we go round the mulberry bush_  
_So early in the morning_ _._

 

After the second verse and the leaping break, stop the twirling but give all the skips more of a rocking motion, to simulate riding a horse while playing:

 _Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,_  
_To see a fine lady upon a white horse;_  
_Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,_  
_And she shall have music wherever she goes_ _._

 

Run through again, leaping break, and then begin the fifth and final melody. No rocking or twirling, but make the skips more bouncy without disrupting the draw of the bow across the fiddle strings—so much harder than any non-fiddler would ever imagine!—while playing:

" _Half a pound of tupenny rice,_  
_Half a pound of treacle._  
_That's the way the money goes,_  
_Pop!_ _goes the weasel,_ with the highest hop he could make while striking the _Pop!_ note.

 

 _Up and down the city road,_  
_In and out the Eagle._  
_That's the_ _way_ —begin to 'stumble', as if he'd tripped over his own feet— _the money goes_ —turn while lifting the bow and fiddle away, fall backwards onto that aching bum, while hearing someone in the audience gasp loudly in alarm (they were really buying it; thought he was falling accidentally!) and roll backwards, feet in the air.

 

Pause for half a breath, let the feet fall back down and the sight sink in— _Now_! He held the fiddle in front of him and parallel to his chest so all the audience could see it clearly, and then he triumphantly played, _Pop! goes the weasel_.

 

And he received the reward for all his hard labors when the entire practice tent exploded with applause as well as laughter. He clambered to his feet and bowed to the first-tier performers, and they applauded even more!

 

"What did I tell you?" Falco boasted to Joker and the others, with a proud sweeping gesture at him. "You give me two _weeks_ to work with him and create a fine act, and we do it in _two days_!"

 

"That's amazin', Falco!" Dagger says, his eyes wide. "You've done a right _miracle_!"

 

Ciel started to scowl, stung by the implication of Dagger's words, but Falco emphatically shook his head. "No, no, I can take only a little credit. The miracle worker here is Smile himself! He came to us already a master of the violin; I merely helped him make his playing a circus act."

 

"That was very impressive work, my boy," Sebastian said warmly, almost as warmly as a real father would, as he came forward to quickly brush the sawdust from Ciel's clothes before taking the instruments from his hands. "All those hours of practicing your music really paid off, did they not?"

 

"They really did; thanks, Da!" Ciel said wryly, knowing the demon would remind him of this moment the next time, and every single time thereafter, he voiced even the slightest complaint over Sebastian's highly strict teaching methods in any subject.

 

And then, because he was still playing the role of 'dutiful son' and he didn't think it through in time, he asked with a note of shyness, "Are you proud of me?"

 

And then he immediately wanted to slap himself in the face. How _pathetic_ that had sounded! How _needy_ , how _weak_ , and of course Sebastian would have to dodge giving a straight answer because he wasn't allowed to lie, so he'd toss out some compliment instead, but he'd also _smirk_ and remind Ciel of this moment when—

 

"I am indeed."

 

Ciel stopped in his tracks and stared at Sebastian, who actually looked rather startled himself. He'd just said... The word burst out of Ciel without thinking: "Really?"

 

And yes, Sebastian's smile was now definitely rueful as he replied, "You know I don't tell lies, my boy."

 

But that moment of revelation was interrupted when Doll came forward with a grin, and spoke—and gave Ciel his second shock in less than a minute. Because when that pretty girl said, "Congratulations, Smile! Looks like you found your act after all!" she said it _in Freckles' voice_!

 

"F-Freckles?!" as he stared at the girl—boy!—incredulously. And when he nodded with another grin, Ciel pressed, "But you're a boy; why are you dressed like a _girl_?"

 

Freckles frowned at that, while some of the others gathered around them started grinning and even snickering. "How rude! It's obvious that I'm a girl; an honest-to-goodness maid, I am! See?" as one hand whipped out and grabbed his, and then pressed it to that white-clad chest and _that was definitely a breast he was feeling_!

 

And the great Earl Phantomhive, the notorious Queen's Watchdog, was reduced to a blushing, stumbling mess in front of everybody. At first there was only one thought gibbering inside his head: _I touched a breast I touched a breast I touched a breast I touched a breast!_ But it was followed quickly by twin realizations: _Really a girl she's really a girl!_ and the much more mortifying, _A girl saw me **half-naked** last night! I was half-naked in front of—Oh dear god, Sebastian, just eat me now and get it over with!_

 

Amidst all the laughter from the adults surrounding them, Joker shook his head with a blushing grin, and admonished with a chuckle, "Oi, Doll, ye really oughtn't be doing tha' wiv a boy! Fills their heads wiv all th' wrong thoughts, it does!" Then it was Freckles'—no, _Doll_ 's turn to blush, just a little.

 

"I hope that is not what is running through Smile's head right now," Jumbo said, stepping up beside Doll with one large gentle hand resting protectively on her shoulder as he looked down at Ciel. His voice was quiet, and expression was mild... but there was no mistaking the way he _loomed_.

 

"N-n-not at all!" Ciel stammered, stumbling back one step further. To run right smack into someone else's chest, and he glanced up to see Sebastian looking down at him with a disapproving _tsk_ , though the mirth on his face was still plain to see.

 

Sebastian said, "Do be careful, my boy; you wouldn't want to risk damaging your delicate instrument, would you?" And Ciel just _knew_ that the smirking bastard was referring to more than just the violin...

 

Finally Joker declared that it was time to move on, to put their props away for a few hours until time to prepare for the evening performance. As they walked out of the practice tent together, Ciel heard Sebastian say to Falco, "So that is Freckles' secret that you referred to earlier, eh? The reason that you urged Ciel to become friends with her? Doing a bit of _matchmaking_ , are you?"

 

"Eh, just a little," Falco said with a clearly unrepentant shrug. "Sometimes, you see two people together and you just know they will be good for each other, yes? They are maybe a little young for it, but..."

 

"A little young, true," Sebastian said with a thoughtful nod while looking at Ciel, so only he could see the devilish gleam in their depths. "But I have heard of matches being arranged even younger..."

 

_Oh god, Lizzie is going to **kill me**! She's going to beat me to death with her parasol, and then she'll _ **_cry_ ** _, and then she'll throw me off the balcony, and then she'll tell **Aunt Francis** , and then..._

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Ciel eventually calmed down, though it took a while. And Sebastian definitely _did not_ _help_ , when he started teasing Ciel as soon as they got back to their tent about showing off his legs to Doll last night. "I did try to warn you, by advising you to get back under the covers before she walked in..."

 

"Bastard, you knew she was a girl all along, didn't you?!" Ciel snarled, blushing bright red again.

 

"But never fear, my lord, as your loyal butler, I shall keep the incident secret from Lady Elizabeth... as well as your new habit of groping other women's physical attributes."

 

" ** _Guaaahh_!!** "

 

But by the time the evening performance had ended and everyone had returned to the props tent to put their things away, Ciel was able to look the girl in the face without blushing and stammering like an idiot—okay, fine, he was still blushing, but at least he was able to _talk_ to her normally again. ...More or less normally, anyway. Enough to ask her after a bit of verbal fumbling, "Which name do you prefer, anyway? Freckles, or Doll?"

 

"Doll is what I've been going by these past six years, but I don't mind being called Freckles by newcomers," she said with a shrug as she put her balancing parasol in a traveling trunk, already dressed in her patched jacket and trousers. "I know I don't much look like a pretty doll when I'm not in costume."

 

"Well, maybe not a doll, but you're still sort-of pretty," Ciel said easily; one of the last lessons his predecessor had taught him before The Fire, was that being able to flatter a member of the opposite sex at the drop of a pin was really a basic requirement for any male member of the peerage, not just the Queen's Watchdog. And really, if Freckles put a bit more effort into her appearance when not in costume, prettiness was a possibility.

 

But Freckles—no, Doll—just snorted and gave him an annoyed glare. "You tryin' to flatter me, just 'cause you know I'm a girl now, Smile? I thought you were better'n that!" And she gave a toss of her head to the left, which shifted the hair that always hung in her face...

 _Oh_.  Where her left eye should be, was only an old mass of scar tissue. From the looks of it, she'd suffered either a bad burn or a severe scald in her childhood, and probably not by accident.

 

But if she'd meant to shock him or scare him, she had failed most dismally. Ciel had seen far too much ugliness in the last few years, far too many people damaged and broken, to let it phase him at all. He just raised his hand to tap a finger to the patch over his own right eye, and asked calmly, "This is what you meant last night, when you said I was like you, right? But I keep it under a patch instead hiding it behind my hair, because the old master never let me grow my hair long enough to do it right. And when I first came here, Joker and everyone else saw this, but they still called me _adorable_. Joker even asked me if I was really a boy! _Twice_ ," as he deliberately pouted for her.

 

Just as he'd planned, that made Doll grin again, her good humor restored. She gave him what was probably meant to be a friendly nudge with her elbow as she said, "Aw, don't worry, you'll grow up an' get some muscle on you soon enough, especially now that you're eatin' your fill with every meal! Speakin' of which, let's go get some supper!"

 

The rest of the performers were already heading out of the props tent, though Sebastian and Falco had hung back to wait for them. But as they headed for the tent flap to exit, Ciel had one more question for Doll: "If you're a first-tier member, why are you sharing a tent with newcomers like me and Falco?"

 

"Ah, eh... I don't like being in a room by myself," Freckles admitted with eyes downcast. "Staying with someone else makes me sleep better sometimes."

 

A touch of _monophobia_ , perhaps? Sebastian had mentioned the fear of being alone as one of the many irrational fears that humans are prone to, when they were discussing how _fear_ could be as powerful a motivator as _greed_ or any of the seven mortal sins when it came to business decisions. Well, he'd let his resident alien being play the alienist with her issue some other time; right now he had a more pressing question. Glancing at the two waiting by the entrance, he nearly whispered, "So, Falco, he's not... taking advantage of you, in any way?"

 

Doll actually snickered at the question. "Ohh, ain't you a proper lil' gennulman! Naw, Falco told me right at the start that he's got a little sister who's older than me, an' he sees me as a stand-in fer her, his 'littler sister.' But now don't you go being too much of a gennulman!" as she poked him in the chest with a stern expression. "You start treatin' me different just 'cause you figured out I'm a girl, and you can find somebody else to play marbles with!"

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

There was a vegetable course at dinner that night, a side dish of severely overcooked broccoli. And Ciel looked on with dismay as Sebastian took the serving tongs and heaped his plate high with the limp greenery, saying with a smile, "Eat your vegetables, my boy; proper nutrition is important for growing big and strong!"

 

"But, Da...!" Ciel couldn't help protesting. The broccoli had been overcooked to nearly the point of dissolving into _mush_ , and there wasn't any Hollandaise sauce for the vegetables; not even a vinaigrette! If this had been served to him back at the manor, he would have pitched the dish right back at Sebastian and told him to start dinner all over again, and next time to keep Bard as far from the stove as possible.

 

"Listen to your father, Smile," Falco said while wagging an admonishing finger at him, and the first-tier performers all nodded agreement, even though Dagger and Doll looked sympathetic to his plight. "Eat what he puts on your plate!"

 

This 'dutiful son' role was definitely chafing on him, Ciel thought with great annoyance as he picked up his fork and grimly forced down that horribly bland mess of greens. When they were finally done with this case, he was going to demand that Sebastian serve the fanciest cakes with every single meal, for at least a week!

 

Falco was one of the first to finish his dinner, and take his dirty dishes to the sideboard. But instead of leaving the tent afterwards, Falco walked over to another table and bowed to one of the ladies sitting there; one that Ciel had seen before in the practice tent, doing pole climbing stunts. " _Buon compleanno,_ _Ivy! Tanti auguri a te!_ Today is your birthday, yes? I told you, I would remember!"

 

Ivy blushed prettily and called him a darling for remembering, but not to make such a fuss over her. But Falco was not to be dissuaded, he put on an exaggeratedly sad expression for a moment as he said, "I gave much thought to what sort of gift I could give you for your birthday, but alas, I am only a poor trapeze artist; I have no gold or jewels to give such a _bellissima signora_. But!" as he brightened dramatically. "Now I have a student, and he has a gift for you; one to please your lovely ears!" Then he turned to Ciel and ordered, "Smile, go fetch your violin; your teacher commands you to play some beautiful music, to celebrate this beautiful lady's birthday!"

 

After being told to skip and hop about like a child, and then to fall backwards repeatedly, this was one request from Falco that Ciel actually had no qualms in complying with. He fetched his violin from his tent and hurried back, to find that the other diners had cleared a spot in the middle of the tent, put a chair there and sat Ivy in the seat of honor. Already blushing bright red, Ivy nearly swooned when Ciel gave her his most courteous bow and asked, "Do you have any requests?"

 

"Well... do you happen to know'Greensleeves'?" Ivy asked shyly.

 

"I do indeed, good lady," Ciel said with another bow. When one's demon servant and frequent violin tutor occasionally admits to being older than the Roman ruins, a few very old melodies are apt to become part of the student's repertoire. He paced a slow, attentive circle around the chair with its blushing occupant while playing for her the melody and first chorus of the medieval ballad. And then suddenly Sebastian popped up with a piece of paper on which he'd written the first few lyrics to the ballad, which he handed to Falco with a smile and suggestion: "Perhaps the gentleman would like to sing along?" And then he led Falco in singing while Ciel played once more,

 _Alas, my love, you do me wrong,_  
_To cast me off discourteously._  
_For I have loved you well and long,_  
_Delighting in your company._  
  
_Greensleeves was all my joy_  
_Greensleeves was my delight,_  
_Greensleeves was my heart of gold,_  
_And who but my lady Greensleeves_ _._

 

Ivy, who was indeed wearing green sleeves as part of her costume, was thoroughly delighted with their performance; she first kissed Falco on the cheek, with he accepted with all due appreciation, and then insisted on kissing Ciel on the cheek as well (which made him blush bright red again; at this rate his face was going to be permanently strawberry-colored by the end of the mission.)

 

Then Doll asked with a hopeful grin, "Hey, Smile, are you taking requests from other folks besides birthday girls?"

 

Ciel considered aloud, "Well, since I've already got my violin out and ready... All right, I'll take requests for three more songs," he announced to the room at large, "and Doll gets the first request."

 

Doll brightened at his announcement, and she asked eagerly, "Can you play 'Tom, the Piper's Son'?"

 

Ciel knew that song well from his childhood, so he nodded and raised his fiddle to starting position again. And first Doll, and then nearly all the first-tier members and several of the second-tier members as well, had a rousing sing-along with his playing:

 _Tom, he was a piper's son,_  
_He learnt to play when he was young,_  
_And all the tune that he could play_  
_Was 'over the hills and far away';_

 _Over the hills and a great way off,_  
_The wind shall blow my top-knot off._

 _Tom with his pipe made such a noise,_  
_That he pleased both the girls and boys,_  
_They all stopped to hear him play,_  
_'Over the hills and far away'._

 _Over the hills and a great way off,_  
_The wind shall blow my top-knot off_ _._

 

Then one of the second-tier troupers, a juggler who went by the unusual stage name of Dinkum, requested he play "The Jolly Grinder." He had to hum the first two bars before Ciel recognized the song, as one he occasionally heard being sung in the taverns when he was down in the East End on Watchdog business. But it was a simple tune, so he was able to play it from memory while Dinkum and a few others sang with wide happy grins:

 _" _There was a jolly grinder__  
_Once lived by the River Don,_  
_He worked and sang from morn til night,_  
_And sometimes he worked none_ _._

 _And still the burden of his song for ever used to be:_  
_'Tis never worthwhile to work too long_  
_If it doesn't agree with me_ _!_

 _He seldom on a Monday worked_  
_Except near Christmas Day._  
_It wasn't the labour that he shunned,_  
_For 'twas easier far than play_ _._

 _And still the burden of his song for ever used to be:_  
_'Tis never worthwhile to work too long_  
_If it doesn't agree with me_ _!_

 

Then a female acrobat who went by the name Gazelle asked him wistfully, "Can you play Beethoven's _Ode to Joy_?"

 

"I can indeed," Ciel said with a bow in her direction. It was one of the few classical pieces with a main melody that was actually quite easy for violinists to play, and one of the last pieces he'd learned before The Fire, back when he played music mostly for fun instead of to meet social expectations.

 

He gave a rousing performance of the main theme for Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, with all the ruffles and flourishes he could manage as a solo violinist. And his audience definitely appreciated it; when he finished with a final flourish, nearly everyone in the tent gave him a standing ovation! Ciel realized that he was stupidly grinning from ear to ear, but he didn't even try to stifle it as he bowed himself out of the dining tent with their applause still ringing, and went back to the tent he shared with Sebastian.

 

He'd left Sebastian behind in the dining tent, but was unsurprised to find his butler waiting for him with a small bathtub full of hot water and a cup of Darjeeling tea both ready for his enjoyment. He sighed contentedly as he enjoyed the tea, and as Sebastian shampooed the sawdust out of his hair and washed away the sweat from that day's exertions. Then as he was being dressed for bed, he gave Sebastian an expectant look. "Well? You've been clearly wanting to ask something of me ever since I walked in here, demon. So what is it you want to know?"

 

At first Sebastian demurred that it was hardly worth troubling his master about, but Ciel threatened to make it an order. At last, his eyes focused on the front of the nightshirt he was buttoning up, Sebastian seemed to be choosing his words with unusual care as he said, "The last piece you played... I remember you playing it for me when we first began your tutoring in music, when I was determining how much you had learned already and where to begin my tutoring. I know well that you are now capable of playing much more difficult pieces, because I and your human violin teacher Mrs. Adams _taught_ you that far more challenging music. You have played all twenty-four of Paganini's Caprices, and just before we began this case you mastered Johann Sebastian Bach's _Chaconne_ from _Partita No. 2 in D Minor._ I have heard you play very complex pieces, quite well... but yet... there was a _particular quality_ to your playing tonight. And I would like to know:

 

Sebastian looked up to meet his eyes, and Ciel could see some unknown emotion burning in their depths as he said. "My lord, I observed your lessons with Falco from afar, and I know he cannot play the instrument at all. Whereas Mrs. Adams has been playing for a full twenty-six years, and **_I_** have been playing the violin since its current form was made standard by the Amati family of luthiers in Italy! So it rather pains me to admit that your playing has somehow _improved_ since you came under Falco's care, and to have to ask: what did you learn from a musically _un-_ talented _oaf_ like Falco, that you could not learn under my tutelage?" And Ciel abruptly realized what that unknown emotion burning in Sebastian's eyes was: _jealousy_.

 

He had finally found a weakness, a _flaw_ in his too-perfect butler; in at least one small matter, Sebastian had become _jealous_ of a mere human! Ciel wanted to drink in and savor the moment, like the finest Darjeeling tea... But then it occurred to him that letting this state of affairs remain, might be perilous for _Falco's_ own health. So he settled for giving his demon a knowing smirk, before letting it slide into an almost-but-not-really-apologetic smile. "It's actually quite simple: I learned from Falco, how to _enjoy_ making music again."

 

.

_To be continued_


	6. Cats and Burglars

_Author's Note: Just clarifying a few bits from the last chapter that reviewers commented on, namely Sebastian’s seemingly somewhat-out-of-character moments. I tend to figure that for every reviewer who asks a question or points out something that seems odd, there are at least five more readers who wondered the same thing but didn’t bother to type it out, so:_

_Sebastian’s sudden surge of overprotectiveness, not just going into Nanny-at-Full-Throttle mode at the mere suggestion that Ciel might get sick, but being ready to kill Marten just for knocking Ciel down, stemmed from, ah, let’s call it “psychic bleedthrough” from the Sebastian experiencing the canon events. Up through the first half of chapter 5, the difference between this AU and canon did not add up to much, where Sebastian is concerned; he was still in the same location and doing much the same work as his canon counterpart. Also, it’s a given that demons have at least some psychic ability, to sense when they’re being summoned and sense the presence of other supernatural creatures. And so this Sebastian has occasionally, because the two universes are currently still quite similar, been sensing what Canon Sebastian was feeling at the moment when the emotion was really, **really** intense. _

_The first chapter’s incident was pretty obvious, when Sebastian was feeling like there should be somebody he cordially hated in the practice tent with him. But some folks may not have realized that, at the same time that Ciel and Sebastian were sitting down to dinner with the circus folks after a successful performance, Canon Ciel was having a full-scale asthma attack, the first one he’d had in over three years. This was something that Canon Sebastian had never witnessed before, might not have even heard of before; all he knew at the time was that his little contractor was suddenly choking, collapsing and Possibly Dying right in front of him._

_Any policeman, fireman or Emergency Services worker can tell you that in emergencies, seeing someone get seriously hurt (or killed) right in front of you while you just watch helplessly, can be almost as traumatic as actually being seriously hurt yourself! It’s pretty plain from Sebastian’s expression in the manga that he was panicking while watching Ciel collapse right in front of him from some unknown cause; his thought processes probably ran along the lines of ‘Why is he choking it’s getting worse he Can’t Breathe is he Dying but if my contractor dies now without his revenge I’ll Lose his soul WHAT DO I DO?’ And this Sebastian, while trying to pretend that he actually likes mashed potatoes (blech) and meat pies (couldn’t the cook have at least cut himself and bled on them to improve the flavor?), suddenly experienced that raw panic focused on his contractor, while Ciel was just sitting there eating dinner next to him._

_It’s actually a testament to Sebastian’s self-control, honed over millennia of service to human contractors and waiting years or even decades to eat their souls, that he didn’t instantly grab Ciel and hustle him out of the dining tent and back to the manor (known safe territory that Sebastian controlled), possibly kidnapping a physician for his master along the way. His little lord was just sitting there eating, in no visible distress whatsoever, so Sebastian stayed in place and tamped down his panic as best he could, while across the veil Canon Sebastian was carrying his unconscious, barely-breathing contractor into the medical tent and then helplessly watching the doctor look him over to find out what was happening to him. But a few minutes later, when This Sebastian’s sharp ears picked up the sounds of Ciel yelping in shock at a surprise attack, he thought ‘Danger to my contractor, **this** I can do something about, time to Protect him/kill for him!’ _

_And then at the end of the chapter 5, when Sebastian declared that he was indeed proud of Ciel, for being able to turn his violin-playing into a circus act… that was certainly perceived by all the circus performers present as fatherly pride, the sort that any father tends to feel when his child does well at something, from getting an ‘A’ on his report card to just learning how to tie his shoes correctly. But the pride Sebastian was feeling at that moment, was more along the lines of the pride that a schoolteacher might feel when seeing one of their students win a national academic competition. Despite their current pretense, Sebastian doesn’t really consider himself a parent-figure for his contractor, but he does rather pride himself on being one hell of a tutor. And Ciel’s routine that he showed the first-tier members at the end of chapter 5… well, that was actually one hell of a performance._

_When I first posted chapter 4, I unintentionally skimped quite a bit on one aspect of Ciel’s practice, making it seem perhaps less difficult than it really, truly is. Because Falco doesn't play the violin at all or personally know anyone else who does, he had no idea that what he was asking Ciel to do was much harder than it would be for nearly any other player of a handheld musical instrument. And because **Ciel** didn’t realize that Falco didn’t know the extent of what he was asking, didn’t know that Italian circuses do **not** typically have dancing-violinist acts,, he gritted his teeth and did his absolute best—and accomplished something that would make even the current violin virtuoso Lindsey Stirling stand up and applaud him. _

_Everyone is welcome to reread chapter 4 now that it’s been revised a bit, to better explain the increased level of difficulty in Ciel's performance. And chapter 5 has been revised as well; a scene near the end has been greatly expanded to give, as one reviewer requested, a little more Ciel-Doll interaction_.

 

___________ 00oo00oo00oo00oo00 ____________ 00oo00oo00oo00oo00 ____________ 00oo00oo00oo00oo00 ____________

 

**Chapter 6: Cats & Burglars**

 

“Young Master, it is time to wake up,” Sebastian said softly while wafting the scent of a freshly made cup of tea, a strong Assam blend, nearer the sleeping boy’s nose.

 

The young master murmured his usual nonverbal protest upon waking up, but the murmurs increased in volume to become groans of true discomfort as he started to sit up. “Can’t... hurts too much to move!” he moaned as he flopped back down onto the cot.

 

“That is not surprising, considering the acrobatic training you received yesterday in learning how to fall and roll backwards without damaging your violin,” Sebastian commented as he gently slid an arm under the boy’s shoulders and propped him up in the cot, and held the teacup up to his lips. “Fortunately, I anticipated and prepared for such an outcome. Here, drink your tea, young master; you may recognize by taste the addition of willow bark extract, as an analgesic for your pain. And I awoke you twenty minutes earlier than yesterday for the express purpose of giving your back and shoulders a massage, to work the knots out before you must rise to begin the day.”

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Sebastian’s demonically talented hands did their work well, and Ciel’s aches had been greatly reduced to a much more tolerable level by the time they left their tent together to begin the breakfast preparations expected of them.

 

To Ciel’s surprise and mild pleasure, breakfast went even more smoothly than it had the previous morning. He still had to do the menial labor of peeling potatoes for everyone to eat, but Doll willingly sat with him to continue coaching him in the best peeling technique (and do part of the work for him) without his even asking her this time. And when Sebastian and the other cooks announced the food was ready, instead of having to fight his way through the throngs of hungry workers to get anything at all, when the second-tier juggler Dinkum saw him he grinned and bellowed up towards the front of the crowd, “Oi, make way for the lil’ music-man!”

 

It was really quite gratifying, seeing all the performers and roustabouts turn at Dinkum’s shout, notice him standing there, and then step aside to let him pass and even nudge him forward with friendly smiles. Clearly, putting on private musical performances for this troupe had its benefits, Ciel reflected as he strode to the front to get his breakfast, being sure to smile brightly and thank everyone for letting him through.

 

He wasn’t the only one who noticed the apparent change in his status, either. While he was eating, the jealous second-tier acrobat Marten glared at him sullenly (from a safe distance, on the other side of the dining tent), and back in his own tent afterwards, while he was fetching his violin, Sebastian commented with rather a surprised look, “I think it entirely possible, young master, that we may soon achieve first-tier status due to _your_ efforts more than mine! My trapeze act with Falco may be ‘elegance in midair’, as Joker described the Flying Gentlemen, but it is not a particularly unique act, whereas yours clearly is for this circus. You may find yourself in the same beneficial situation as Snake, who we were told made first-tier status immediately after his arrival because he had a unique performance to attract audiences.”

 

“And since gaining the privileges and camaraderie of first-tier status is evidently essential to continuing our investigation, it would definitely work to our benefit to achieve first-tier status based on my performance, before you and Falco lose your temporary status once Wendy is ready to perform again,” Ciel mused aloud as they walked together to the practice tent, before donning a determined frown. “In which case, I shall have to increase my performing repertoire, since I doubt it will be enough to continue playing only the simplest nursery songs while skipping around the ring. I noticed the first-tier members’ faces while performing last night, and only halfof them seemed impressed with my work, until the very end of the routine.”

 

“Your footwork was rather weak,” Sebastian chimed in oh-so-helpfully, adding with a smirk, “as I have often said regarding your dancing and your fencing lessons.”

 

“Shut it, demon!” Ciel hissed with a blush rising in his cheeks. “Yes, I already know that I must not only continue prancing about like an idiot, I’ll have to become _better_ at it. But I can work on improving the performance from the _musical_ side as well as the physical. Clearly the circus audiences will prefer sprightly tunes, but they must also be popular enough for the common masses to recognize… Sebastian, this is an order; as soon as the shops in London open today, sneak away and fetch me the sheet music for all the musical numbers of three or four of the Savoy Operas by Gilbert and Sullivan. Their works are certainly popular these days; perhaps a few of their melodies will be suitable for playing while skipping about.”

 

“Yes, my lord,” Sebastian said with a quick bow, that smoothly flowed into lifting aside the tent flap for Ciel so the boy could stride in.

  

They found Falco waiting for them inside the tent; he greeted them both with a grin and invited them to do warm-up stretches with him. As they stretched, the trapeze artist told Ciel, “Smile, today you just continue working on your dancing while playing, yes? I know you are still sore from the special falls you did so much yesterday; today we give your poor back and bottom a rest. And while your son practices, Black, today you begin teaching me that triple somersault!”

 

“That is entirely agreeable to me,” Sebastian told Falco with a smile, before turning to Ciel. “Be diligent in your practice, my boy, for we shall occasionally be watching you from on high!” as he reached out to ruffle his hair again.

 

“Right you are, da!” Ciel chirped as he quickly bowed, ‘incidentally’ ducking Sebastian’s hand in the process. The glint in the demon’s eye said that he noticed and _approved_ of the boy’s sneakiness, before he turned to head for the rope ladders up to the trapeze rigging.

 

Roughly an hour into the practice, Sebastian climbed down from the trapeze rigging and left the practice tent, nodding to his master as he did so; doubtless to perform the errand Ciel had ordered of him earlier. Ciel idly wondered what excuse he had made to Falco for leaving, but dismissed it as irrelevant when the trapeze artist climbed down as well and walked over to give him encouragement in his practice. “You are doing well, Smile! Just try to skip a little higher; the people at the back of the audience, they will need to see the dancing too!”

 

Ciel gritted his teeth at the suggestion, but reminded himself that Her Majesty wanted those missing children found, and prancing about like this wasn’t _quite_ the most undignified thing he’d ever done in order to fulfill his duties as Watchdog for the Queen. (Though God help him if any of his better Underworld contacts ever came to the circus and recognized him while he was performing! He’d have to have Sebastian quietly kill them before they could tell anyone else, but useful and semi-reliable contacts in the Underworld were _such_ trouble to cultivate…) So he dutifully followed Falco’s suggestion, and tried to skip even higher while playing “Baa Baa Black Sheep,” without his playing becoming sheer screeching _noise_ in the process.

 

Playing smoothly while bouncing about took every scrap of his concentration, so it wasn't until after he paused for a moment that the thought occurred to him that perhaps it might not be a bad idea if _one particular_ Underworld contact came to the circus and saw him. If he was ever put on the roster to perform for the crowds, he'd tell Sebastian to slip a ticket to that evening's performance through the mail slot of the Undertaker's door. That barmy old creeper would probably laugh so hard and so long at the sight of the proud _Earl Phantomhive, the Queen's Watchdog_ , skipping around the ring and falling over backwards, that Ciel could turn it into advance payment for his next three visits seeking information... Then he was drawn from his thoughts when he noticed Doll and Joker coming into the practice tent together. They headed straight for him, both smiling, and Doll called out, “Smile, we gotcher a new costume to try on!”

 

"A new costume?" Going to the bother of making a new costume for him, meant that they thought his act would soon be worthy of performing before audiences and netting him that necessary first-tier status. So Ciel stuck a wide, happy smile on his face as he thanked them, and then Joker shook out the bundle he'd been carrying and held up the costume for him to see, and the smile froze on his face as every fiber of Ciel's entire being silently screamed OH GOD NO **.**

 

"I got the idea from that first song you played in your routine!" Doll said proudly. "An' Joker thought it was such a fine idea that he told Old Agnes—she's our seamstress, I'll take you to see her later so you can thank her—an' she jus’ happened to have some cloth on hand that was right perfect for it! See?" as she needlessly pointed out the cloth of the costume.

 

Joker agreed with a smile, "T'wouldn't be bold 'nuff nor pretty 'nuff ter make enny other costume, but ‘tis right perfect fer this one!"

 

"Here, let me see it," as Falco stepped forward to pluck the costume from Joker's hands and look it over, his smile growing larger as he did. "Ah, so clever of Agnes! She must have heard of your routine and its final touch, Smile; look, see here? She has sewn padding into the costume for your back and bottom! But the pattern she made on the cloth disguises the padding, and this," as he tugged lightly on another feature of the costume, "draws the eye away from it, so the audience will never notice! _Splendido_! Come, Smile, you must try it on!"

 

"..." When Ciel found out who had been kidnapping the children, they were going to be _eaten alive by a demon_ , _slowly and from the feet upwards_ , for making him go to all this trouble to stop them! But in the meantime, keeping that wooden grin frozen on his face, he let Falco lead him off to change.

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Checking his pocketwatch as he returned to the circus, Sebastian noted that it had been a full 32 minutes since he had left the practice tent; it really had taken too long to obtain for the master the full musical scores for _The Mikado_ , _HMS Pinafore_ , and _The Pirates of Penzance_. The first musical instrument shopkeeper he had spoken to had assured him that those three were the most popular works that had been made to date by Messrs. Gilbert and Sullivan, but he had ended up dashing to five different shops in order to obtain the sheet music for every single song in all three operas. He had excused himself before leaving by carefully implying to Falco that he needed to use a lavatory, but he feared he had now been gone rather too long for that excuse to stand on its own. He had best imply that some other minor issue had needed to be dealt with, before Falco asked him outright why he had been gone so long and where he had been. It really was such a bother sometimes, being unable to lie for the duration of this contract.

 

He set the sheet music on the young master’s bunk, closed his eyes while kicking loose two tent pegs, quickly stomped the stakes back into the ground with the heel of his shoe, and then returned to the practice tent. He found Falco by the water barrel getting a drink, and said apologetically as he approached, “Pardon my taking so long; I stopped by my tent on the way back, and found it necessary to reseat two tent stakes that had been kicked loose.”

 

“Kicked loose?” Falco echoed with a frown. “Do you know who did it?”

 

Sebastian spread his hands and shrugged as he said, “I did not see them being kicked loose, Falco, and it would be wrong to accuse someone without a witness or sufficient proof.”

 

“True, but if it happens again, be sure to tell Joker. Ah!” as Falco brightened, having evidently just thought of something. “While you were out, Joker came by, with a new costume for your son; it is very _carino_! See for yourself,” as he pointed to the ring where the young master had been practicing earlier. Sebastian turned to look, and—

 

_Oh_

 

_Oh my_

 

“Smile!” Falco called out cheerfully, startling Sebastian more than he would ever admit; for a moment he had actually forgotten anyone was standing next to him. “Come show your father!”

 

The young master stopped playing the violin and _glared_ at them, but just for a split-second before converting the expression into a sunny smile, likely fast enough that Falco had missed his first reaction. Then he skipped over to them, saying with a very convincing attempt at gaiety, “Look at my new costume, Da! Now people will call me ‘the Cat and the Fiddle’!”

 

As he drew closer, Sebastian saw (to his veiled disappointment) that the master’s now _delightfully catlike_ appearance really was due to a costume, rather than a true transformation. The soft-looking ‘tabby fur’ was actually made of a gray velveteen fabric that had been rubbed with charcoal to make tabby stripes. The big fluffy tail coming out the backside swayed above the ground with a sweet curlicue at the tip instead of dragging in the sawdust, but that was almost certainly because its core had been threaded with wires to give it shape. And the soft gray ears that nearly matched the young master’s hair were just more of the gray velveteen, fastened to a thin headband. Still, Sebastian could quite truthfully say as he gazed down at the young master, “My boy, you look completely adorable!”

 

“Aw, thanks, Da!” the young master said with a (grimace)grin, as he wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s waist. And with the embrace muffling his voice to all but Sebastian’s keen ears, the boy hissed “ _If you **cuddle** me like one of your damned cats, I swear I’ll find a way to **end you**_ **.** ”

 

 _My dear little master, I don’t need to cuddle you; you’re the one cuddling me right now!_ Sebastian thought with delight but carefully did not say aloud. The young master may have thought he was administering a punishing squeeze, but of course the boy simply didn’t have the strength to hurt an adult human in that manner, let alone a demon. Then he dared to lightly lay a hand on that little head, getting in a quick caress while pretending to adjust the ears and murmuring, “Be sure to keep the headband centered, my boy.”

 

“The seamstress, she was very thoughtful and clever; she put padding in the back and bottom, to help protect Smile when he falls in his routine!” Falco pointed out with a smile.

 

“Did she? Why, so she did!” Sebastian said in mock surprise, silently thanking Falco for giving him the perfect excuse to _pet_ the young master’s back while feeling for the padding. My, my, what a sharp glare his little lord had! Sebastian decided not to tell the boy that _growling_ under his breath like that only made him even more adorable…

 

But alas, it was time to return to practice; for Ciel to continue refining his routine, and for Sebastian to return to training Falco in the triple somersault. But Sebastian kept an eye on his cute little master even while training Falco, and when ‘Smile’ paused in his practice roughly an hour later to start trudging over towards the water barrel, Sebastian suggested to Falco that they take a short break for water as well. Falco agreed with alacrity and they climbed down from the rigging, but when they approached the barrel Sebastian hung back to let his new trainee go first, and to speak with his little lord for a moment.

 

As Falco drank three dipperfuls of water and poured another one over his head, Sebastian quietly asked, “Is there anything you require at the moment, young master?”

 

“At the moment? Just water,” the young master muttered back. “But as soon as this case is over, I’m going to need a box of matches,” as he plucked at his costume in disgust. “Because when we get back to the manor, I’m going to personally _burn_ this abomination to ashes.”

 

 _Oh no you’re not_ , Sebastian thought firmly, deciding he’d best get his hands on a few yards of that gray velveteen fabric, to create a convincing-looking bundle that could be substituted in at the last second if necessary. When this case was over, that costume would be neatly folded and stored in the back of his own wardrobe back at the manor, to be kept as a souvenir!

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

While the second-tier members were all training, practicing, or doing some of the many chores that were needed to keep a circus going, all the first-tier members except Snake were gathered in Joker's tent for a private discussion... a very private discussion.

 

"Ye go on out an' keep watch, Doll; make sure we ain't disturbed by enny'un," Joker said firmly but with a smile, gesturing their family's 'little sister' towards the tent door. Doll's usual cheerful grin had been replaced with a downright miserable expression, but she left the tent almost before he'd finished speaking, as if she couldn't get out of there fast enough. Joker wasn't offended, though; he knew why she was acting that way, just as she had for the last few dozen times they'd gone through this. Doll had the heart to go dancing on a high wire, always just one slipup from certain death, but she just didn't have the heart for doing... what they had to do, to keep themselves and the far-away members of their family alive.

 

After everyone had made themselves more-or-less comfortable, Joker pulled out the envelope that had arrived by courier a few days ago, from 'Tom, the Piper's son,' as Father liked to refer to himself in these letters. He opened it once more to read aloud to them all the information on their next target: "Ciel Phantomhive. Date of Birth: 14th of December, 1875. Inherited the title of Earl Phantomhive. Residence is at Phantomhive Manor," and he read aloud the address of the manor, where they would find the boy—the _target_ , he grimly reminded himself.

 

"That ain't any closer to here than it was the first time you showed us the letter," Peter commented with a scowl. After looking at a map when the letter had first arrived, they had concluded that it would take them most of a day and night to travel that far into the countryside, acquire the target, and return to where the circus was currently set up. And any upper-crust family that lived in a fancy manor was bound to have guards of some sort, probably watchdogs and maybe human watchmen as well, which meant they would need to hit this target in full force for the best chance of success. "Doing it now will mean leaving an entire show to just Doll, Snake and the second-tier blokes. Why not wait until we can set up for a show or two someplace closer in?"

 

"I dun' like it either, but ye r'member Father's letter 'fore this one. 'E said 'twould be special, that he has ev'rthing in place at last an' he could 'ardly wait enny longer," Joker reminded them with a frown. " 'E wants this target _now_ , not later."

 

"It would not be wise to incur Father's wrath," Jumbo said quietly, looking sad and grim. "More lives than just ours depend on his goodwill."

 

"Besides, plenty of people here know what our route should be for the next few months," Wendy pointed out. "If we changed that route all of a sudden, people will want to know why. The fewer questions that get asked of us, the better."

 

Dagger didn't seem to have an opinion one way or the other, but then, he spent most of the meeting gazing with concern at Beast, who spent most of the meeting either staring down at her feet or looking sadly right into Joker's eyes—a gaze he tended to shy away from, because he knew that what Beast wanted of him, he just didn't have in him to give her. _Ah, Sis, why can’t ye make those eyes at Dagger instead? He’s been all but praying ye'll see him that way!_

 

But Joker didn't say any of that aloud; it wasn't important right now, and he'd never embarrass her in front of others like that anyway. He just tapped the letter from Father and said, "We'll be leaving t'day, at two o'clock; tha' should get us to th'target 'round midnight."

 

After a quick discussion of what supplies they’d be bringing for the overnight mission, Joker stood up and said with a forced grin, “Right, now let’s take care o’ business ‘ere too! ‘Tis a given tha’ Falco an’ Black will be up on th’ trapeze t’night, but we’ll need more acts t’ help Doll an’ Snake fill out th’ show. Go out an’ look over th’ second-tier folks, see who ye think is ready t’ perform, an’ bring me names ‘fore lunch so’s I c’n put t’gether a program to pass on.”

 

The others all got up and filed out, but Beast lingered behind them, to once more look at Joker with those sad eyes. She asked almost plaintively, "Do you think this will be the last time?"

 

Joker found himself unable to meet those eyes again; he busied himself with pencil and paper, beginning to draw up a program for his chosen substitute ringmaster to follow, as he said shortly, "Let's hope so."

 

She fell silent, but she still didn't leave; instead, half a minute later she spoke up again, her voice noticeably stronger than before. "Let's _make it_ the last time. Or better yet, let's make this time not happen at all; give the whole bad business a rest!"

 

Surprised, he looked up to see her standing there with her hands on her hips, her jaw firmed with resolve. "We've got this circus; I'm sure we can get by. So let's wash our hands of this business, and go away to somewhere Father can't find us."

 

After a moment of frozen silence, Joker gave a mirthless chuckle. " 'Over the hills and far away'; is that it?" He shook his head, feeling as though someone had set a heavy weight atop it. "That's not possible. Now, we've a lot t' prepare for," as he turned away to rummage through his travel trunk for his peasant knife, to cut a sharper tip for his pencil.

 

Then he stiffened with surprise when leather-clad arms came from behind to encircle his chest. Beast hugged him from behind with surprising strength, crying out, "Wait, just-just consider it!"

 

He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice as he asked, "What's wrong wi' ye? 'Tain't like ye t'be acting like this." He sighed aloud, and his tone went gruff as he reminded her, "This is something we set our minds t’ doing. We decided we're going t’ protect what's important to us... an' do whatever it takes," he finished as his fists unconsciously clenched.

Beast said in a broken tone he'd _never_ heard from her before, "But... but I just can't bear to see your pained expression anymore!" And then, even softer, "'Because I..."

 

He could _not_ let her finish that sentence. He turned and grabbed her hands, molding his face into the sternest expression he knew. "Have ye forgotten? _We can no longer turn back_."

 

But he couldn't stay stern and hard with her; when she gritted her teeth and choked back tears, he smiled to belatedly soften the blow, before gently urging her towards the door. "You still need t'go pick a sub'stute animal trainer fer the show we'll be missing."

 

Tears were still lurking in the glare Beast tossed back over her shoulder as she retorted, "No one works with Betty but me!"

 

"Aye, I know, she's just too bad-tempered fer ennyone but ye t' work wiv’ her. But ye've had second-tier folks workin' some wiv' Alfred, aye? Ye told me y'self, that old lion is so tame and lazy now tha' he wouldn't harm a fly 'less it landed on his dinner. Pick th’ gel that he gets along best with b'sides you, an' she can just walk him through the tent all slow an' majestic-like. I'll work up sumthin' grand t'be said durin' his walk, mebbe 'bout him bein' a reincarnation o' Prince Albert..."

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

In the practice tent, training continued until it was time for luncheon; when a cook's assistant stepped into the tent to shout to one and all that the food was ready, Falco greeted the news with enthusiasm, and Sebastian with inner resignation. The young master joined them as they walked out of the practice tent and down the midway, but justbefore reaching the dining tent, they crossed paths with the doctor, rolling his wheeled chair down the midway while balancing a large and travel-worn valise in his lap. “Going on a journey, Doctor?” Sebastian asked politely.

 

“Mm-hmm; since no one’s freshly injured or particularly sick at the moment, I’m taking the opportunity to visit my supplier for more of the materials I need for making prosthetics. If Joker continues true to form, he’s going to wear out a joint in his hand in another few weeks,” the doctor said with a longsuffering sigh.

 

“Well, one generally needs two hands to juggle things,” Sebastian pointed out, with a quick glance down at his young master; a question was silently asked and answered, and he said to the doctor, “Would you like some assistance in getting to the train station?” He had a twofold purpose in asking that; doing such a favor for the doctor would give him time alone with the physician, time to ask some questions about the circus members' background under the guise of idle conversation to pass the time, and see how many answers the doctor might hold. But pushing his wheeled chair to the train station several blocks away from the circus grounds would also give the demon a valid excuse for missing luncheon, so he wouldn't have to ingest human food in front of others again.

 

But when he moved behind the chair to begin pushing it, the doctor waved him off with a smile. “No, it’s quite all right, I’m well used to managing it on my own. And a porter always seems to appear whenever I approach any difficult bits such as stairs,” he added over his shoulder as he continued rolling down the midway. Ah well, perhaps Sebastian would have better fortune in finding answers to his questions upon the doctor's return. In the meantime, the demon butler resigned himself to eating tasteless human cooking once more.

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

To Ciel's great annoyance, the crowd that had parted for their 'music-man' that morning showed no signs of being willing to do so again at luncheon; clearly, fame was fleeting indeed. But Sebastian pushed into the press of bodies to get at the food being served and piled his plate high, and then shoveled most of the food onto Ciel's nearly empty plate once they were seated together.

 

"Ah, Black, always looking out for Smile, as a father should! But do not forget, you are not alone in looking out for him now!" Falco chided with a smile as he used his fork to flip a meat pie and a baked potato from his own well-filled plate onto Ciel's, and then flipped one of the meat pies that Sebastian had given him back onto the demon's own plate. "You do not have to starve yourself to feed him anymore; not ever again!"

 

"Falco, you are truly too kind," Sebastian murmured, and only Ciel knew that was a complaint instead of a compliment. Then he glanced off to his left, and asked with what seemed like real concern, "Miss Doll, are you feeling well?" Ciel followed his demon's gaze, and saw Doll making her way to their table—and her plate was nearly as empty as Ciel's had been earlier.

 

"I'm fine, just... didn't feel like fighting for the grub today," Doll said with a shrug as she sat down. She flashed them a smile, but even a blind man could tell it was forced and false instead of her usual energetic grin.

 

“Is something wrong?” Ciel asked her, putting all the concern he could muster into his voice and face, while Sebastian took the opportunity to pass some of his food onto her plate instead. People who were upset sometimes said more than they should say, and right now he’d take any information that might possibly bring them closer to resolving this case.

 

“Nothing’s wrong!” she insisted. “Can’t a girl just feel a little down once in a while?”

 

“Yes, you can… but this is more than ‘a little down’ for you,” Ciel said gravely.

 

Sebastian reached over to touch his gloved fingers to her wrist as he said gently, “You seem greatly troubled… and as you may have heard others tell you of our background, my boy and I are no strangers to trouble. And even if what is wrong cannot be mended, I have heard it said that a burden shared is a burden lessened. You may confide in us as you see fit, and I swear that we will tell no one else in this circus.”

 

For a moment Doll looked almost ready to cry (and hopefully to tell them everything amidst her tears,) but then the moment passed and she just sat back with a sigh. “I can’t talk about it.”

 

Falco, who was also looking at her with concern, asked quietly, “Is it trouble with Peter? I have noticed he is very hot-tempered, quick to lash out…”

 

“No, not with Peter, it’s Father,” Doll blurted out, and then almost clapped a hand over her own mouth in shock.

 

“Father?” Ciel echoed her in a near-whisper as he leaned closer, his voice and posture conveying _confide your secrets in us_ as clearly as if he’d posted a sign on the table. “But from what you said to me the other night, I had the impression that you’re an orphan. Would ‘Father’ be the founder of this circus, the true leader? Joker told us he was scary…”

 

Doll’s voice dropped to a whisper too. “He wasn’t always; when he first found and rescued us, he was so kind, but…” Then her lips clamped shut, and she shook her head sharply. “I can’t say any more. **_Please_** , don’t ask me any more!”

 

If they pushed it now, she’d likely just get up and leave, and never confide in them at all. Ciel sat back with a slow nod and sad expression, apparently conceding to her wishes, while already plotting how to get this possible informant to _crack_. From the Funtom candy she’d shared with him that first night, he knew Doll had the same fondness for sweets that he had. Perhaps tonight he would present her with one of Sebastian’s more decadent desserts—saying that his Da had made or bought it for him as a reward for having pleased the first-tier members with his performance routine; that would be a reasonable excuse—and offer to share it with Doll, his ‘best friend’. Then he would see if the overwhelming sweetness of both gesture and dessert loosened her tongue further…

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Lunchtime for the circus performers was always followed by feeding time for the many animals that belonged to the circus as well. Second-tier members had the chore of feeding the horses that pulled the wagons, and they often vied with each other to feed their elephant Nellie, but Beast didn’t let anyone else feed Alfred the lion or Betty the tiger. Considering the big cats' usual diet—bloody bones and scraps of meat from their traveling kitchen, augmented by as many rat and mouse carcasses as had been caught overnight in the traps that were always set around the kitchen and dining tents—nobody ever argued to do the chore for her.

 

Today, as Joker headed for the practice tent to talk to his chosen substitute ringmaster, he saw Beast standing next to Betty’s cage with one hand firmly planted on her hip and the other dangling a trio of rat carcasses by the tails, staring into the cage with a concerned frown on her features. “Somethin’ wrong?” he asked as he approached.

 

“I think so,” Beast said as she stared into the cage, where Betty was flopped over on her side and idly nosing at the rat carcass lying between her paws, instead of tearing into it the way she usually did. “Yesterday she ate only half as much as she usually does, and today she’s hardly interested in eating at all. Her eyes look normal, there's no yuck coming from her nose, and her fur has a healthy sheen to it, but… it seems like she just wants to sleep all day!”

 

This could be bad; Beast and Betty’s act was one of the circus’s biggest attractions.   And their doctor, the only one with any real medical knowledge for man or beast, had just left to get more supplies for prosthetics, saying it would be a three-day trip and he’d meet up with them at the next town on their route. If Betty got any sicker before the doctor had a chance to look at her, they’d be in real trouble. But to take Beast’s mind off her worries, Joker said with a lopsided smile, “No appetite all of a sudden, an’ she’s jus’ so tired lately? If we had a male tiger wanderin’ ‘round, I’d be asking if our Betty was ‘in a family way’.”

 

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” Beast said sourly, shooting him a glare.

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

After lunch had settled in their stomachs enough, it was time to get back to training. Falco had found Black to be a stern and strict taskmaster when it came to training for the triple somersault; so strict that he made grouchy old Giuseppe who had first taught Falco the trapeze, look like a sweet baby's nursemaid in comparison! Given how Black was so polite and kind to everyone and the way he doted on his son, Falco had honestly been shocked when their training had begun that morning and Black had turned into such a _sorvegliante severo_ , pushing and demanding more of Falco with nearly every minute that passed. But hecould already tell after just a few hours of doing his best to follow Black's orders that his double somersaults were being accomplished faster than before, and faster speed was essential to performing the triple somersault, so he just forced a grin and accepted the harsh treatment. Walking back to the practice tent with Black and Smile, Falco gave Black a speculative look as he guessed, "Carl Hagenbeck's circus, in Hamburg?" The German acrobat he had met while traveling through Paris had certainly been a stern and strict fellow; perhaps that was where Black had gotten his own training from.

 

"No," Black said with a quick shake of his head and his usual polite smile.

 

Smile glanced up at Falco and sighed. "Are you _still_ trying to guess which circus Da used to be in? How many guesses have you made already?"

 

"Forty-seven," Black told his son. "His knowledge of circuses around the world is really quite impressive." But then Black froze in his tracks as his eyes went wide, just for a moment— and then he dashed off, so fast that Falco almost didn't see which way he went! What was he headed for in such a hurry?

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Ah, he should have known his joke wouldn't be appreciated. Joker opened his mouth to apologize to Beast—when suddenly a black shape appeared between them, heading for the tiger's cage. Black?! Where had he come from so fast—and what was he doing now?

 

Proving he was still as crazy-fearless as the night they'd first laid eyes on him, Black walked right smack into the bars of the cage and then reached between them, to lay his hands on the tiger's flank. Joker flinched in anticipation of Betty leaping to her feet in that hyper-quick way all cats had, and objecting to Black's handsiness the same way she had objected to it in the ring—with her _teeth_...

 

But instead, after glancing at Black, the tiger just—just flopped down on her side, and then rolled over on her back with a little wiggle! And that sound, was Betty... _purring_?!

 

Beast started to sputter her objections to Black grabbing for her tiger like that, but when Betty rolled over and started purring, she turned her outraged-and-betrayed stare on the cage instead. After a few seconds of rubbing the tiger's belly, Black said flatly, "She is not carrying any cubs."

 

Joker realized his mouth had been hanging open all this time; he shut it and swallowed once to take care of the dryness, and then asked, "So do ye know why she's doin' more sleepin' than eatin' now?" With all the other amazing things Black had done in the last few days, Joker honestly wouldn't be surprised if he had some knowledge of animal doctoring too.

 

"Perhaps she is being affected by the dreary winter weather. I have heard that many humans become depressed in wintertime," Black suggested. "Or perhaps she has simply gotten bored with eating the same fare over and over again," as he eyed with mild distaste the three rat carcasses still hanging from Beast's grip. "I would suggest bringing her other meat for a few days, and far fresher meat at that. Perhaps some live poultry, such as geese or chickens; if you will not give Betty the pleasure of killing them herself, then wring their necks just before passing them through the bars to her."

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

After suggesting possible causes and a solution, Sebastian leaned forward and spoke quietly enough that the still-staring humans couldn't hear him, though he was sure Betty could. "I shall let you rest undisturbed tonight, my grand beauty," he whispered before leaving to go back to where the young master and Falco were waiting for him with confused and querying expressions. "My apologies for leaving so abruptly; I had thought a significant crisis was looming, but it turned out to be a minor matter, easily resolved," he told them, and managed to deflect further questions with talk of training.

 

As they headed into the practice tent, Sebastian noted to himself that when he and Betty resumed their delightful nocturnal interludes, he had best reduce the size and number of fresh kills he brought to her as gifts. It wouldn't do to repeatedly spoil her appetite for her typical fare, and raise the humans' misplaced concerns for her health once more.

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Choosing the substitutes for the show turned out to be more work than Joker had anticipated, because it seemed like nobody but him could be objective about their choices. "Nay, Doll, I know ye like him, but Smile's act needs a fair bit o' polishing 'fore he's ready t' perform in public.... Ah, Beast, I know ye don't like him, but Black's staying on th' roster fer this show! He an' Falco have already proven they can sub'stute just fine for Peter and Wendy, while Sparrow an' Robin still can't get their double somersaults right half th' time..."

 

"Just let Snake, Doll and th' second-tier members sort it out themselves after we leave," Peter said with a dismissive wave, when he heard Joker grumbling under his breath while going over his notes. "They know they're dead meat if they make a mess of things, right?"

 

Joker was sorely tempted to just let it go, as Peter suggested; just let his little sister and the rest cope by themselves, just this once... but no; the Noah's Ark Circus had a reputation for quality entertainment, for all that they were so much smaller than other circuses 'round the country. And all it would take would be one haphazard, slipshod show that left the audience unsatisfied with what they'd paid for, to ruin the circus's reputation in these parts and maybe even further along their route.

 

Finally, he made a roster for the show they would miss, and painstakingly wrote out grand-sounding introductions for each act that his substitute ringmaster would need for announcing each act, with scripts for their routines as well. All he needed now was a good substitute ringmaster to give the show script to, and he knew just who that would be; the acrobat trainee who'd named himself Swashbuckler. Blond, fairly athletic and reasonably handsome—he had no scars and all his teeth, anyway—Swashbuckler had joined up when they'd passed through Sussex six months ago, proudly proclaiming that he would be their star attraction in less than a year. His acrobatics weren't anything close to star quality yet, but Joker aimed to make good use of the lad's ability to brag, by having him brag about _other_ people for one night.

 

His left hand was still cramped and aching from all the writing he'd been doing, but Joker was in a decent mood when he called Swashbuckler to the main tent, told him what he'd be doing that night, and went over the roster and scripts with him. But then he wanted to beat his own head in—or better yet, someone else's head—when Swashbuckler looked up from reading the scripts and said expectantly, "So when am I going to do _my_ routine?"

 

"Ye're to be th' _ringmaster_ t'night; that's a right important job," Joker reminded him, trying not to let his irritation show. "Wi'out a ringmaster to introduce each act an' keep things movin' right smartly, the show would fall t' pieces, an' our audience would walk right out an' never return! A ringmaster needs a good strong voice tha' can be heard way in th' back of th' audience, an' a way of speakin' that makes ever'thing seems special, an' ye've got both. So t'night, focus on performin' wi' yer _voice_ instead of wi' yer body, all right?"

 

But Swashbuckler just frowned and responded, "But _you_ do your juggling and magic tricks and clowning around in between the acts you announce; why can't I do my stunts then too?

 

After silently counting to ten and back down again, Joker mustered the patience of a bleedin' _saint_ and calmly told him, "Because yer acrobatics need more work, Swashy. Ye've gotten better since joinin' us, but ye've a ways to go yet b'fore ye can do a routine worthy of a payin' audience wi'out enny mistakes, no' a single one. When a _clown_ trips an' falls on his face, th' audience laughs, they do... but when an _acrobat_ trips an' falls on his face, they boo!"  

 

After finally succeeding at hammering it into the lad's head, and getting his solemn oath that he'd do his best, Joker left to get his kit as well as Father's letter about the boy—the _target_ , and get the mission started. They were already a bit behind schedule, a quarter past two!

 

When he emerged from the tent with his satchel and the crucial letter tucked into a pocket, he found that Beast had his horse saddled and ready for him. Everyone was making their goodbyes to Snake and Doll in front of the corral, and explaining to Snake that they were traveling ahead to inspect the next town that they would be performing at. (And Dagger was trying to make it sound like it would be a romantic trip for him and Beast; lordy, but that lad could dream!)

 

Joker was glad to see that his sisters had straightened themselves out in the last hour or two; Beast had her usual determined 'mission face' on, while Doll was once more sporting that happy-go-lucky grin that made everyone like her (and never suspect a thing.) As he swung up into the saddle, Joker told Snake, "Ye an' Doll work wi' Swashbuckler; go over the program wi' him b'fore telling the other second-tier members who'll be performing tonight. We're countin' on ye to make t'night's show a success!"

 

"That makes me nervous, but I shall do my best. Says Emily," Snake told them solemnly.

 

As they all mounted up, Dagger promised Snake, "We'll be right back here tomorrow morning!"

 

There was a brief pause... and then Snake said in positively _lilting_ tones, "It'll be lonely without you, so please come back soon, okay? I'll be keeping the bed warm for you! Says Emily."

 

After a full round of double-takes back at their resident snake-charmer, everyone started teasing Dagger with comments of, "Such a nice girl y' have, Dagger!" "Oi, is it spring already?" "Looks like it's yer turn to be a hit wiv' the lasses!" While Beast wondered aloud how a cold-blooded reptile could keep a bed warm, and Dagger protested at the top of his lungs that he didn't want to be considered a hot catch for _snakes_ , Joker just shook his head and grinned as they rode out.

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Over the last few hours, Ciel had noticed first-tier performers coming into the practice tent and watching people practice, but he hadn’t paid a great deal of attention to it; as Dagger had said that very first day, first-tier members often took turns supervising their practice. He did wonder what was going on when Joker called and gestured for an acrobat called Swashbuckler to come with him, but he doubted it was that important. Having watched others practice their routines while he was taking brief rest and water breaks, Ciel had already noted that Swashbuckler’s bragging to others about his performance, far exceeded his performance itself. If Joker had decided that the would-be acrobat was beyond hope of improvement and had told him to pack his bags, that was none of the Queen’s Watchdog’s concern.

 

Having improvised a music stand out of some other handy props, Ciel had set himself to the task of playing through all the sheet music Sebastian had obtained for him from Gilbert and Sullivan's _The Pirates of Penzance_ , while contemplating which melody could be adapted for his routine. In order to be appealing, every melody he played had to be popular enough to be instantly recognizable to most of the audience; he had learned well in his dealing with the Underworld that most of the common masses reacted with resentment when the abyssal gaps in their education were pointed out to them.

 

The most popular tune in this particular Savoy Opera was undoubtedly _'I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General'_. But while Ciel could play the fast-paced melody without errors after just a few run-throughs, playing the song while dancing to the beat would be another matter entirely. If he actually managed to get his feet going as fast as his fiddle bow, he'd be dashing about faster than Sebastian!  Maybe he'd have better luck with a melody from _HMS Pinafore_...

 

But while he was riffling through the pages of sheet music, he was interrupted by a shrill whistle from off to the left, and a loud, "Oi! Gather 'round, everyone!" He looked up to see Snake, Doll and Swashbuckler all standing at the tent entrance, and along with everyone else, trotted over to see what was going on.

 

Swashbuckler was sporting very nearly the smuggest grin that Ciel had ever seen, as he informed them all, "Joker and a bunch of the first-tier members have gone ahead to scout out the next town we'll be performing in, and he's left **_me_** in charge of tonight's show!"

 

That earned the acrobat a glare and a sharp elbow in the ribs from Doll, and a loud _hiss_ from the snake draped around Snake's shoulders as well as a reproving look from the snake charmer himself. Swashbuckler's smug grin turned sickly as he corrected himself, "He left the three of us in charge of the show. But I'm the ringmaster! I'll be announcing things to the audience and telling everyone when to perform. So listen now, while I tell you all who'll be performing tonight!"

 

"Wait, before you do!" Ciel said hurriedly, unabashedly pushing his way through the crowd to stand right in front of the trio as he asked, "Does this happen all the time; most of the first-tier members leaving for a day to scout ahead?"

 

People glanced at him in mild surprise—but Doll had definite alarm on her features. Standing next to him, Dinkum told him, "No, this is the first time I can recall it happening; usually the scouting is done by our advance man, Larson. Maybe he's fallen sick? Or maybe Larsen told ‘em there was a problem with getting a field big enough to set up on," the juggler finished with a shrug.

 

"Yeah, that's it; they're scouting out a new field we can set up on!" Doll said quickly, with what seemed like blatant relief to Ciel's all-too-experienced gaze. "Anyway, listen to the show roster! Go ahead, Swashy, tell 'em!"

 

"Swash ** _buckler_**!" the acrobat complained, before holding up several sheets of foolscap covered in handwriting. "We're going to start with the tumbling trio; Felix, Gazelle and March Hare! You three come out cartwheeling and doing handsprings..."

 

As the acrobat-turned-ringmaster began describing the expected routines, Ciel turned and pushed back into the crowd, until he made his way over to where Sebastian and Falco were standing at the back of the crowd. He hissed just loud enough for Sebastian to hear, "Find them! Search everywhere in a full five mile radius; report back in ten minutes. Go!"

 

Sebastian nodded his understanding and then politely excused himself to Falco, took three steps straight back—and dashed off so fast that it seemed he just vanished from view. With everyone focused on learning about the show roster, no one else noticed his leaving. Five or six minutes later, when Swashbuckler got to talking about the Flying Gentlemen's part in the show, Falco started to give 'Black' a knowing nudge and then looked around in mild confusion until Ciel told him with a completely straight face, "He had to go use the lavatory."

 

"Again? Ah, some things just can not be helped," Falco said with a philosophical shrug. "So long as he takes care that the urge does not hit while we are performing... There are worse problems to have, eh?"

 

A few minutes later, Sebastian came back with a shake of his head; he had not been able to find the missing first-tier members. "They must have left a while before those three told us," Ciel muttered, but then cut himself off quickly when Falco drew near them to talk about the upcoming performance. Then they had no time for talking for the next few hours; with so many second-tier members needing to polish and coordinate their performances for public viewing at long last, everyone else needed to pitch in to take over their usual afternoon and evening duties. To Ciel's great disgust, he found himself relegated to the cooks' tent for the second time that day, to peel potatoes and shuck peas for making dinner that night.

 

By the time Ciel had finished helping with dinner, the evening performance had finished and a horde of tired, hungry but overall happy performers were entering the dining tent. In the tradition that had been set by the first-tier members, those who had performed in the show were waited on instead of having to fight the hungry hordes for their food, and Ciel unashamedly used his position as 'Black's son' to claim a spot at their table again. Listening to all the performers' excited chatter, it seemed that the show had gone quite well, with plenty of applause ringing out for nearly every act.

 

"They even applauded me and old Alfred!" a petite girl called Sparrow who was scarcely bigger than Ciel, and who normally trained as an aerialist, said with a grin. Even though, from what Ciel remembered of Swashbuckler's instructions, the lion act was supposed to have consisted solely of Alfred pacing slowly and majestically (arthritically) across the tent floor, with little Sparrow in a pure white leotard walking next to him with one hand in his mane (to guide the old boy along because he was half-blind from cataracts), while Swashbuckler said something about the majesty of lions because they were reincarnated kings and princes or whatever.

 

"I think we should thank Black for most of that applause," Falco said, nodded to the demon sitting beside him at the table. "That speech you rewrote about Alfred for Swashbuckler to read, you made it _magnifico_! Describing the lion as having the spirit of a king named Alfred the Great, and all the great things that king did for your country... your speech had great detail, and such—what is the word? Ah, such reverence for both the lion and the ancient king, it is almost as if you were there when he reigned!"

 

"I am pleased that the speech and this circus's Alfred were so well received," was all Sebastian said with a smile, before turning the conversation to Dinkum's juggling instead. Ciel gave his demon a speculative look, but dismissed his suspicions as ultimately unimportant; they had more immediate concerns.

 

Finishing their plates at the same time, as they stood up and took them to the sideboard together Sebastian murmured to his master, "Have you decided yet which pastry or sweet would be most appealing to Doll, my lord?" His demon butler's smile showed a bit of fang as he added, "I must admit, I am most curious to see how your first attempt at _seduction_ turns out..."

 

"In the first place, it is **_not_** a seduction!" Ciel hissed, knowing that he was already blushing just at the _thought_ , damn that demon.

 

"My lord, you intend to sweetly _tempt_ someone into doing something that they normally would not, namely giving you information. What would you call that action, if not a seduction?" and the bastard was definitely _smirking_ at him.

 

Ciel refused to rise to the bait again; instead he whispered, "And in the second place, there's been a change of plans. With most of the first-tier members away, we have another opportunity to search their tents, so long as we can preoccupy the last remaining occupant. That box of marbles from the factory in Germany; have you passed that on to Earl Barton's orphanage yet?"

 

"Not yet, my lord; I had intended to make time to deliver it after we finished this case."

 

"Good. As soon as we leave here, run back to the manor at top speed and fetch me that box..."

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Doll always hated it when her family had to go on missions for Father, but she really, truly hated this one most of all.

 

She always felt bad about the children being kidnapped to become servants for Father. Sure, they would still have a roof over their heads, clothes to wear and food to eat, which is a _lot_ more than Doll and her family had while growing up. But they were being taken from their _families_ , from people they loved who actually loved them back. If someone tried to take Doll from her family now, even if it was to go live in _Buckingham Palace_ with theruddy _Queen_ , she’d fight them with everything she could lay hands on and scream bloody murder every step of the way. And escape at the first opportunity she could find, walking a tightrope across all of London if she had to.

 

Why did Father always want _kidnapped_ children for servants, anyway? It weren’t like the Renbon Workhouse was lacking for children who could do just as well! And working all day to keep a fancy mansion clean-n-tidy was no worse than training to work in factories, like they’d all been doing before Father had come up with the circus idea. Heck, working in a manor would be _safer_ , because everybody heard about them horrible accidents what happened in factories, when people got too close to the big machines! But _no_ , Father had declared that none of the rest of their family at Renbon would become servants, he had to have other children for it. And his _favorite_ children would have to do the procuring for him, or else _all_ the children would suffer for it.

 

For the first year and more after Father had found them in the gutters of the East End and brought them to Renbon, Doll had thought it was _wonderful_ to be one of his favorite children. Sure, it had been hard and painful work, training to perform on the tightrope, just like all of them had suffered strains and bruises and bumps and animal bites while learning their new trade. But the idea of becoming _circus stars_ , of showing the whole world that their disabilities wouldn’t hold them back, had been so grand that no one had ever complained (well, sometimes, but just a little and never where the adults would hear.) But then Father had… had started _changing_ , saying odd things about the moon at night and beautiful thorns, and then getting himself operated on, and then when he’d declared… Well, no one thought it was wonderful anymore. But what else could they do?

 

But _this_ mission would be the most dangerous _ever_. Joker had told her that on most of the missions they just slid open a window, asked the child in a whisper if he wanted to go on an adventure, and out the kid came with no one the wiser, all easy-peasy. But this boy was some fancy-pants knob’s brat, living in a fancy manor that was a long ways from here; Doll knew that much just from the letter Father had sent them. And fancy-pants knobs often had night watchmen going around their fancy manors, keeping an eye out for thieves looking to steal some of their gold and jewelry; night watchmen that were sometimes armed with _guns_ instead of just truncheons. Joker, Jumbo and the rest could be in real danger! And Doll couldn’t do nothin’ for them except what she was already doing, covering for them with the second-tier members, and worrying herself half-to-death over them.

 

It was just as well that her tentmate Falco was off wooing that pretty pole-climber, Ivy; otherwise he’d be asking her why she was so glum and anxious, and other questions that she couldn’t answer. She wouldn’t be able to sleep without company, but that didn’t matter tonight, not when she knew she wouldn’t get a lick of sleep between now and next sunrise anyway.

 

“Hello, Doll? Not asleep yet, are you?” she heard from outside her tent. She poked her head out and saw Smile standing there with a hopeful look, and a small wooden box in his hands.

 

“My Da gave me a present!” Smile told her proudly. “He told me this makes up for the last five birthdays that we weren’t able to celebrate, because of where we were living. And it really is like five years’ worth of presents all at once! Look!” as he opened the box with a flourish. Doll looked in and gave a small gasp; it was filled nearly to the top with shiny glass marbles!

 

“That’s more marbles than I’ve ever seen in my life!” she exclaimed as she reached in and pulled out a few, holding them up for a better look; they glittered like _jewels_ in the lamplight from the midway, putting her old clay marbles to shame!

 

“I know! I counted; there are _exactly_ **_one hundred_** of them,” he told her in almost hushed tones, looking halfway between _smug_ and _awed_. “And ten of them are tolleys!”

 

“You’re _rich_ , Smile! You could even hold a _championship contest_ with all those marbles!"

 

"I suppose, but right now all I want to do is play a game! Want to play marbles with me?" as he gave her a hopeful smile.

 

"You bet!" Doll told him with a grin. Bless his heart, this was just the thing to take her mind off her worries!

 

"Great! And... would it be okay if we asked someone else to play with us?" as his smile turned hesitant.

 

"Someone like who?" she asked curiously.

 

"Well, I'd like to ask Snake if he would be willing to play with us. Because I think perhaps he's too shy to ask on his own?" as Smile looked at her uncertainly. "He hardly ever talks unless someone asks him a question, and then he has to pretend it's his snakes answering instead, right? I used to be really shy, too, and people thought I didn't like being around them, but I _did_ , only I was always too shy to say so. It was really lonely..."

 

Oh _,_ truly _bless_ this boy's generous heart! Doll swept him up in a big squeezey hug, not minding the way he squawked and stiffened up in surprise. "I'm so glad you don't mind the way Snake looks!" she told him happily. "Because you're right, he _is_ shy, on account of his scales and stuff and the way he can make snakes do what he wants. Me and my family don't mind it a bit, but lots of other performers stay away from him, and that just makes him even _more_ shy. Come on, let's go ask him to play marbles with us right now!"

 

They went over to the first-tier tents area, and Doll told Smile to wait at the border while she fetched Snake. Snake always insisted that his pets could tell each member of their family just by the way they walked, and wouldn't let anyone else enter their area without at least investigating them; she thought it might scare Smile to walk in and suddenly find snakes converging on his location. "Hey, Snake!" she said brightly as she poked her head into his tent, and found him with his face buried in a book of poetry as usual. "Come on, play a game of marbles with us!"

 

Snake looked up at her in surprise as he said, "Who is 'us'? Asks Oscar. Also, I don't know how to play marbles. Says Keats."

 

"That's okay, we'll teach you! And 'us' would be me and Smile; his dad just gave him a whole boxful of marbles as late birthday present, and he's willing to share them for playing with! And no, I'm not tryin' to force you on newcomers again," Doll said with a mild grimace, waving away the question before he could voice it. Yeah, that had been a bad idea last year, but this was different! "Smile is the one who asked me if you'd be willing to play with us!"

 

"He asked first? How very kind of him. Says Charlotte," Snake said as he found a bookmark and carefully put it between the pages, and then laid the book between two coiled-up snakes on his bed. "And how generous of him, to be willing to share his marbles with us. Says Wordsworth," as he stood up and left the tent with her.

 

When they met up with Smile at the edge of the first-tier area, Snake thanked the boy personally for his kindness in inviting him to play with them--or at least he said his snake Oscar did. Smile just gave him that big beautiful smile that had made Joker give him that stage name in the first place, and said, "Why don't we set up the game in the practice tent? There's lots of room there for drawing the lines and circles we'll need to play!"

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

The young master's plan worked perfectly; Snake was leaving the first-tier area of his own volition, and leaving the area entirely unoccupied except for his serpentine pets. Sebastian waited a few minutes more after watching them walk off towards the practice tent, and when he faintly heard his contractor scratching in the dirt of the tent while beginning to explain the rules of a game of Ring-Taw marbles, he went into action. Dashing here and there between the tents, he picked up all the snakes slithering about and stuffed them into the traveling cage waiting just inside the entrance of Snake’s tent.

 

Then he hid in the shadows just outside the practice tent, and waited for his cue. The lesson for Snake in how to play the game seemed to be proceeding well; he heard the young master complimenting him on knocking a marble out of the ring, while giving a small cough. And just two minutes later, during what seemed to be Doll’s turn in the game, his contractor coughed twice. That was his cue; Sebastian let his footfalls grow heavy, loud enough to be heard by humans, as he walked to the tent entrance and pushed the flap aside. He stepped in to find the young master kneeling with Snake and Doll around a ring with many marbles inside it and a few scattered outside; all of them were looking up at him, the young master with quite a dismayed-looking expression as he said loudly, “I’m fine, Da, really!”

 

Sebastian gave him a look that he trusted was suitably reproving as he asked, “Did I hear you coughing, young man?”

 

“Just a little bit!” the disguised earl responded in apparent protest.

 

“But you _were_ coughing. I scarcely need to remind you that coughing is frequently a sign of incipient illness, my boy. And what did we agree on earlier?”

 

The young master was quite a skilled actor when he put his mind to it; he wilted in apparent dejection as he recited in a sad singsong, “If I start getting sick, I’m to go to bed and get warm under the covers right away, and take whatever medicine you give me too, so it doesn’t get worse.” And then he gave one more wet-sounding cough, before heaving a sigh that seemed almost too big for his slight body.

 

“Very good,” Sebastian said approvingly; it really was a fine performance. “Now come along, my boy,” as he leaned over to sweep up the master’s cap where it was lying on the ground next to the ring.

 

“Guess the game’s over, then,” Doll said sadly.

 

“No, it’s all right, you can keep on playing!” the young master said quickly, while getting to his feet and dusting off his hands and knees. “That’s okay, isn’t it, Da? They can bring me my marbles back later, when they’re done! Because Snake is just learning how to play; he needs to get more practice in, for the next time when we can play a whole game! Please, can they keep playing, and bring back the marbles later?”

 

“Of course they may continue playing,” Sebastian responded as he settled the cap on his young master’s head, “so long as they agree to count the marbles when they return them.”

 

“Oh, we will, Black!” Doll quickly assured him with a smile. “He told us you gave him a full hundred marbles; we’ll make sure there are that many in the box when we give it back! Thanks, Smile; good night, and we hope you feel better in the morning!”

 

The young master gave them a similarly cheery farewell as he let Sebastian nudge him out of the tent with a hand on his back. And as soon as they rounded the corner and were out of range of average human hearing, he strode forward and away from that guiding hand, turning to head straight for the first-tier residential area. “You have the marbles?” he muttered, and Sebastian wordlessly showed him the three marbles he’d discreetly palmed while picking that strategically placed cap up from the ground. “Good,” as one corner of his mouth curved up in what the demon thought was a delightfully wicked grin. “That should buy us at least another fifteen minutes, while they waste time looking for them.”

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

The first two tents they investigated, Peter’s and Wendy’s judging by the small-sized clothes they found within, yielded no clues that Ciel could discern. The third tent, Dagger’s, yielded a unpleasant surprise: right after they walked in, Sebastian said “My deepest apologies, my lord,” as his hand flashed out—and grabbed a snake that was slithering out of the blankets on Dagger’s bed. “I appear to have missed a serpent in my earlier efforts.”

 

After his start of surprise, Ciel gave a snort of amusement as the snake hissed and writhed in midair, held firmly by the demon's gloved grip just behind its head. “Dagger should thank us for saving him from an early and painful demise,” he said with a twisted grin. Though of course if it turned out that the first-tier members were indeed the ones kidnapping children, Dagger would likely meet with an early and painful demise anyway, dangling from the hangman's noose. Sebastian dashed outside with the snake to deposit it with the other serpents, while Ciel continued searching for clues.

 

The next tent, presumably Jumbo's judging by the large bed, had very little in the way of belongings, but it did have one item of interest; a photograph of several children, all dressed in rags, surrounding a stout middle-aged man of which little could be seen except his face; he wore a mustache, glasses and an overall kindly expression. As young and ragged as they were, the children looked quite different, but Ciel was sure that they were all first-tier members, in a photograph that had been taken somewhere between five and seven years ago. But who was the older man with them?

 

He found another photograph in the tent that must belong to Beast, judging by the preponderance of leather and scandalously skimpy clothing. This photograph was definitely of Beast when she was younger, but of more interest was the man in the picture with her; the same man as before, and now that more of him could be seen, his clothes and grooming said he was considerably well-to-do. And in the background, a sign made of wrought iron arching between two pillars, likely the gateway to an institution; The portrait heads obscured portions of the words, but he could tell that the first word on the sign began with "RE", and the last word on the sign was surely "WORKHOUSE".

 

"A clue, my lord?" Sebastian asked with mild interest.

 

"A clue to the members' background, certainly; possibly a clue to much more, if this apparent benefactor of theirs is indeed the man Doll calls 'Father'," as Ciel tapped the photograph behind the glass.

 

"Let me see it," his demon urged, and Ciel let him look over his shoulder to examine it. After a moment, Sebastian pointed to the man's left hand and said, "I recently happened to see the device on this signet ring as a hallmark."

 

"Signet ring?" Ciel peered at the photograph again, and this time noticed that the ring on the man's left hand, such a small detail it was barely visible, did indeed have the flattened top typical of a signet ring, much like the one he wore when dressed in his proper attire. But he had no hope of making out the design on the ring, not with his own eyes... "So you can even see something this small?" It seemed there was no end to his butler's useful talents.

 

"Yes. I believe this hallmark is the same one that was at the base of Miss Beast's prosthetic leg."

 

"A workhouse, prosthetic limbs... this man definitely interests me," Ciel mused aloud as he set the photograph back in place and they continued on to Joker's tent.

 

Unfortunately, Joker's tent yielded no further clues. So Ciel turned to his butler and asked, "Can you draw that hallmark from memory?" Sebastian produced a small notepad and a pen from a pocket (one of these days Ciel would prove he was still using demonic conjuring on the sly, by catching him in the act of pulling out something that was far too big to fit in a pocket) and proceeded to draw a heraldic device that included a calligraphic 'K' on a shield, with a horse standing above it.

 

A signet ring is usually engraved with a motif and initials representing the bearer and his family crest. A coat of arms with a horse on the crest would typically belong to someone on whom knighthood had been conferred, or military personnel. In this case, nobility was far more likely, since philanthropy was involved in the form of rescuing children from abject poverty, and it was nearly impossible to be a philanthropist without some social status. Ciel explained all this to his butler, and finished with, "All heraldic devices are recorded at the College of Arms. With this sketch to compare with, I trust you can find the coat of arms we seek, however great the number of records may be. Let's go," as he led the way out of the tent.

 

"Young master, I doubt the College of Arms is receiving researchers at this hour," Sebastian pointed out while following him out of the tent.

 

"So? We'll break in quietly; it's hardly the first time we've done so. No, we're going there tonight; I want this case solved and the children found as soon as possible!" he said firmly.

 

"Oh? The young master is increasingly concerned about the missing children, then," the demon commented, with that slight lilt to his voice that meant he was about to start teasing his contractor again.

"No, I'm increasingly concerned about _you_!" Ciel snapped, stopping in his tracks and spinning to point an accusing finger in the demon's face. Sebastian stared at him, wide-eyed and silent with surprise as he continued, "Ever since we arrived in this circus, you've been acting strangely! At first I put down your behavior upon first seeing Betty the tiger as simply more of your cat-loving foolishness at work, but since then you've also been looking for people on tightropes who just aren't there, and thinking I'm horribly sick when it's obvious I'm fine! _Something_ about this case is throwing you off your stride, demon, and if I can't determine the precise cause and exterminate it, then I want us to be gone from here as soon as feasible! So we're off to the College of Arms, and with luck, we won't have to come back here at all!"

 

Was it a trick of the light, or was there an actual _blush_ just beginning to stain Sebastian's cheeks? He murmured, "I do see your point, my lord. Then let us depart from this circus... but before we go, let me release the snakes from confinement, and retrieve that box of marbles from Doll and Snake. If they come by the tent with it later and discover us missing, the alarm they would be apt to raise might prove inconvenient for us."

 

Ciel huffed with irritation, but conceded the point. "Just let me get to our tent before you release the snakes. I'll need to get my violin, regardless; can't leave that behind here."

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

After releasing the snakes, Sebastian went straight to the practice tent, from which his keen ears could already hear a quite distressed-sounding Doll say, "Snake, are you _sure_ you counted right?"

 

"Why are you asking that, when you _watched_ the marbles being counted out the second time? Says Oscar," Snake responded, sounding quite exasperated. "Nine rows of ten plus one row of seven equals ninety-seven, **_not_** one hundred! Says Keats."

 

"Then _where are the missing three_?!" Doll cried out, sounding close to tears. "I swear we've been over every inch of the floor in here! We can't give the box back with a few missing, or Smile will never let us play marbles with him again!"

 

Still outside the tent, Sebastian let his fangs show in a grin at all the distress his master had caused with such a simple trick. Ah, it was so very tempting to let them stew in their misery a while longer... but the master wanted to leave immediately, so it was time to put an end to the game.   He let the three marbles drop from his gloved hand to the mud outside the tent entrance, and then quickly scooped them up again before lifting the tent flap.

 

As he walked in, Doll and Snake both flinched guiltily at the sight of him, doubtless dreading the harsh lecture they thought they deserved for being so careless with 'Smile's toys. But their attitudes changed quickly when he extended his hand to show them the small and now dirty glass spheres as he said with an arched eyebrow, "Pardon me, but these marbles are part of my boy's collection, are they not? How did they come to be lying in the mud outside the tent entrance?"

 

"You _found_ them?! They were _outside_?!" as Doll almost snatched them from his hand, then reconsidered and took them more gently, and used a corner of her loose-fitting shirt to rub the dirt from them before putting them in the box.

 

Snake rubbed his chin in thought, as two snakes that had been slithering about on the floor of the tent came straight up to him. Then he touched the ground in front of each one, and they obediently climbed up his arms to drape themselves across his shoulders as he said, "We haven't left the tent at all since arriving here, says Oscar. So they must have been accidentally kicked outside when you came here earlier, to put Smile to bed. Says Keats."

 

"That could be a possible explanation," Sebastian said with a suitably thoughtful look and a nod that implied agreement with Snake's theory. "Well then, now that the collection is complete once more, I shall take the marbles back with me, and bid you good night," as he accepted the box from Doll, bowed to them both and returned to the tent where his young contractor waited.

 

Soon afterward, laden down with his contractor, the violin in its traveling case, and a box of marbles (the master still intended to turn that over to Earl Barton's orphanage, as he did for all the Funtom product samples), Sebastian sped through the night to arrive at the Phantomhive townhouse. Lights were still on inside, indicating that Prince Soma and his manservant Agni were still awake.

 

Awake, and overly dramatic as usual, in Prince Soma's case. Agni just smiled and welcomed them inside, but the prince began shouting the moment he laid eyes on the young earl about how he had been worried sick over them, that it had been three days since they'd left without any word as to where they were going, that he had been on the verge of summoning the police to form search parties, et cetera, et cetera. Walking up the stairs with Sebastian to his usual room, the young master threw an irritated glare over his shoulder at Soma as he growled, "The work of the Queen's Watchdog is none of your business! We're only stopping here to change clothes before pursuing a lead in the current case, so save all your useless chatter for another time!"

 

Once they were inside the bedroom, the young master flopped down on the bed, clearly enjoying its luxurious softness after two nights of sleeping on the thin mattresses and coarse bedding available to them at the circus. "Would you like me to draw you a proper hot bath, my lord?" Sebastian inquired with an amused smile as he set the violin case and box of marbles on a table.

 

"Ohh, don't tempt me," his contractor groaned. But before he could point out that as a demon, tempting was in his very nature, the earl continued, "No, I'll just have a quick wash-up once I'm out of these rags, before dressing to go out again. I still want this case solved tonight!"

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

_Back at the circus:_

 

Snake flopped down face-up on his bed as all the true snakes converged on that spot, and in short order he was draped from neck to knees by all his friends at once; they soaked in his body heat, and he soaked in their affection. They all needed the comfort, after that evening's disturbing news:

 

While he, Oscar and Keats had been learning how to play marbles, Black had been roaming freely through his and his human family's homes, and abusing all of his friends who'd stayed behind! Demonstrating more of that lightning-quick speed Black used on the trapeze in his act, he'd grabbed each snake right behind the head before they could dodge or bite to defend themselves. Then each one had been tied into a knot, much tighter than the ones they sometimes formed themselves to help scrape off their shedding skins—tight enough to hurt!— and dropped into their traveling cage. They'd called out to Snake for help, but he'd been too far away, out of range to hear them through their special bond. And they'd been stuck in the cage for a long time—how long, none of them were sure, since time-tracking was a human invention. But they all agreed that it was longer than the amount of time needed to swallow a rat, before Black had come back and let them out of the cage.

 

Emily also said that Smile had been walking through the tents with his father, though nobody else had heard or smelled the boy. When pressed for details, she refused to answer further—which probably meant she'd seen him while exploring inside one of the other circus members' tents, which she knew was strictly forbidden to everyone without legs, but Snake was too bothered by everything else to scold her for it.

 

It was plain to see now, that marbles game had been a _diversion_ ; a way for Black and Smile to get him out of his tent and away from his duties to keep the first-tier members' area off-limits to everyone else. Black and Smile, two people that he'd come to like and had begun quietly hoping that they would learn to like him as well, were actually _burglars_. What had they stolen, while invading everyone's homes? Nothing in his own tent was missing or out of place, but then the only things he had worth stealing were sentimental treasures; the cast-off skins from his friends that had come off in one piece instead of in shreds. Who knew what was missing from his human family's tents and travel trunks?

 

A part of Snake wanted to get up and just march over to Black and Smile's tent right now, with all his friends massed and slithering next to him; to confront those _devious, deceiving bastards_ and demand that they return whatever it was they stole. But he knew better than to do that, because nobody else truly believed that Snake's friends could talk to him; they thought he was just pretending, that he was touched in the head. If he went to confront Black and Smile now, everyone would just think that the crazy snake-man had snapped at last, and that he "should _go back in the cage_ , for everyone's safety."

 

The prospect of being put back inside a cage made him shudder, as his stomach knotted itself in turmoil. Sensing his horror, his friends all coiled themselves around him while swearing that they'd never let that happen to him again, they'd attack and kill anyone who tried! And after he'd calmed down a little, Snake reasoned to himself that the confrontation could wait until after his friends had returned from their scouting trip. When they came back, he'd ask them to check carefully for anything missing or out of place, and when they found something, then he'd tell them what Black and Smile had done. If they found evidence of burglary, then he'd be able to confront Black and Smile with them at his back, and without fear of being accused of being crazy.

 

...Unless they accused him of having done the burgling himself, and accusing Black solely in an attempt to shift the blame...

 

Why, oh _why_ had nearly all his family decided to go scout the next town together? Usually only three or four of them left at a time! If anyone else had been home tonight, Black and Smile wouldn't have had the opportunity, and none of this would have happened! Worrying and wondering what he should do, it took Snake hours to fall asleep.

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

A well-tailored suit, good wool stockings with garters, shoes that fit properly (and added to his height), his gloves and rings... being properly dressed again was almost as much of a restorative as a good hot bath, Ciel reflected with satisfaction, while Sebastian fetched his best cloak and hat as well as his walking stick.

 

As Sebastian fastened the cloak around his neck, he commented, "There's a chance that the coat of arms is for a Scottish family, instead of English, Welsh or Northern Irish. If we can't find it in the College of Arms here in London, I'll send you to the Court of the Lord Lyon in Edinburgh."

 

"And if it is not on record in Edinburgh either, my lord?" Sebastian asked while handing him his hat and walking stick. "Many foreign nobles have business interests on English soil..."

 

"Don't be absurd," Ceil snorted while setting the hat firmly on his head. "None of the original first-tier members have foreign accents, and no foreign noble would run a workhouse here when there are plenty of orphans and destitute persons to accommodate in their own countries. Now, let's go," as he gripped his walking stick and turned towards the door.

 

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian said as he opened the door and bowed to usher him through—but they both stopped in their tracks when they found Agni standing in the doorway.

 

The Bengali manservant bowed to them while holding a small covered basket in his hands, and offered it to them while saying cheerfully, "I hope you do not mind, but since you seemed in a hurry to leave again, I prepared some food for you to take with you on your excursion. I did not have time to prepare curry buns, but the _churma_ are sweet pastries that my prince enjoys as snacks, and were made fresh this morning! I have also heard of the English custom of 'sandwiches', meats and vegetables placed between slices of bread, and have prepared some of those to take with you as well."

 

"Thank you, Agni; this is quite thoughtful and kind," Sebastian said, smiling as he accepted the basket from him.

 

"It is the least I can do, for dear friends of my prince and I," the manservant demurred with an even wider smile. "I also have news to impart, from your country manor. Your servant Tanaka called here shortly after four o'clock today, seeking to pass a message along to you, and expressing his earnest hopes that you will return home as soon as convenient. It seems that a Lady Elizabeth Midford arrived at the manor this afternoon, and has stated her intention to remain there until she sees you, Lord Ciel!"

 

That news wasn't nearly as welcome as the snacks were, but Ciel refused to let his dismay show in front of Agni even as he imagined everything Lizzie might be doing to his home in his absence. By now the halls were surely all festooned with lace and pink ribbons, and poor Tanaka was probably sporting a frilly bonnet and a petticoat... "Thank you for informing me; we shall return home immediately upon this case's resolution." Agni bowed in acknowledgment, but still remained in the doorway, blocking them from leaving. Ciel arched an eyebrow at him as he said a touch acerbically, "And do you have further news to impart?"

 

"Only that my prince is currently dressing to go out, having decided that he should accompany you on your mission," Agni said with that same cheerful smile, "and has instructed me to prevent you from leaving until he is ready. His exact words were, 'Agni, don't let them go out the door until I say so!'"

 

Ciel rolled his eyes. "Right. Sebastian, open the window..."

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

In short order Sebastian was carrying him while bounding away over the rooftops, the windows of the townhouse growing smaller in the distance. Agni had made no attempt to stop them from going out the window; clearly the foreign manservant had decided that this particular childish whim of his royal master would be better ignored than obeyed, while still following his dictates to the letter. "Been taking lessons from you, has he?" he muttered to Sebastian.

 

"Not that I am aware of," Sebastian responded as he leaped across an intersection, to touch down on the opposite roof with hardly a sound. "Agni fairly worships his prince and master, but he also knows far more of the depths that humanity can sink to, than that sheltered man-child can yet comprehend. I am sure that Agni realized that any mission that we are embarking on so late at night, is not one that could be accomplished in the exact same manner by the light of day. It is likely that he earnestly desires to keep his master from being caught up in any illegal doings that might besmirch his royal reputation if they were discovered."

 

"Definitely the smarter of the pair," Ciel commented as he settled back to enjoy the ride. He would never say so to his demon, but he quite enjoyed being carried on outings like this; it was surely far better than those "roller coaster" amusement park rides in France and America that he'd read about in the newspapers. Sebastian went so much higher, but also carried him far more safely, than those little cars on wooden tracks could ever manage, and the ride could go on for miles instead of a few hundred yards at most.

 

Soon they reached the College of Arms, easily evading the night watchmen there, and Sebastian set him on the roof for a moment while he climbed spider-like down to a fourth-floor window to open it. Once they were inside, Ciel tried the snacks Agni had prepared for them—the meat in the sandwiches was far too spicy for his liking, but the _churma_ sweets were quite tasty; Sebastian would have to get the recipe for them—and ate while his demon flipped through book after book after book, searching for the heraldic record that matched his drawing.

 

After roughly half an hour, Sebastian came to him with a book open to a particular page. "Here is the match, my lord: the coat of arms for one Baron Kelvin."

 

"Kelvin?" Ciel echoed in mild surprise.

 

"Yes, my lord; do you know him?"

 

"I don't much care for philanthropists and such, so he's not a personal acquaintance, but I think we exchanged greetings at a party that my predecessor took me to," Ciel said with a thoughtful rub of his chin. He focused on what he could remember of that brief encounter, and though the perspective from a small eight-year-old boy's height was quite different than that of the photographs, he recognized that the round face, glasses and bushy mustache belonging to the man in his memory could well match the man in the photographs. "Well, we have a name as well as a face, but now we need an address. Where is this baron's residence?"

 

Getting that information quickly and at this time of night required a visit to the main offices of the Board of Inland Revenue; after scouting out that establishment and its immediate surroundings, Sebastian politely requested that he be permitted to conduct that break-in alone. "It goes without saying that I can get inside and acquire the information with ease, but the risk of detection and of danger to you would be greatly increased if you accompanied me. Their offices are much more heavily guarded than the College of Arms, my lord; perhaps because they have had more frequent and unpleasant experiences with intruders."

 

"People breaking in that are unhappy with the tax collectors. Can't imagine why," Ciel said with a perfectly deadpan expression. Sebastian's smirk in response seemed to hang in the air for a moment after he departed, like the Cheshire cat's smile; the young earl sat on a rooftop, wrapped his heavy cloak around him for warmth, and waited rather impatiently for his butler's return.

 

Ten minutes later, the demon dropped down out of sky right in front of him, landing soundlessly in a crouch that turned smoothly into a servant's bow. Ciel refused to be impressed; he simply arched an eyebrow and said, "Well?"

 

"I have the location of Baron Kelvin's country manor, my lord; his primary residence as well as the most isolated property in his holdings, and therefore the most likely location for keeping captive children. From London it would take the whole of a day to reach it, traveling by rail, then carriage."

 

"But you can get us there in less than an hour, can't you?" Ciel asked as he stood up and dusted himself off.

 

"If you so command, yes," Sebastian said with another bow, that turned into smoothly scooping him up into the carrying position.

 

"Then I so command it. We shall solve this case, and then return to the manor without delay," Ciel said firmly, getting a good grip on his hat and walking stick as Sebastian seemed to coil his strength like a great black spring before leaping out over London. He very much wanted to return home before his fiancée turned his entire mansion into an over-decorated lady's parlor...

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Many miles away but less than an hour later, Sebastian gave one final leap over a wooded area and landed on the great drive in front of a large country manor. Ciel looked the edifice over with a critical eye; not as large as Phantomhive Manor, but still of respectable size. "This is Kelvin's manor?"

 

"Yes, sir," Sebastian said as he set Ciel on his feet.

 

"Well? Do you smell them?" He didn't need to explain who 'they' were.

 

After drawing a deep breath, Sebastian replied, "I do indeed. I cannot tell whether they are all here, but those present are still alive."

 

Alive, but likely asleep at this hour, being nearly midnight on a cold winter's night. Hopefully all the residents of the manor were asleep, but that was not a fact to be counted on. What part of the manor was most likely to be deserted at the moment, the best spot to break in? The conservatory, if this manor had one, but Ciel didn't see the typical giant windows that marked such a room on the front face of the manor. Perhaps it was located around the back—but then Ciel stopped his musings when he realized Sebastian was walking right up to the front door, as if he expected the house's butler to just let them in!

 

...Well, why not put a bold face on it? If his demon was confident that they could walk right in without risk, then the demon's master could hardly be less confident. Holding his head high, Ciel strode up to the front door and knocked imperiously, thrice; when no butler appeared promptly to open the door, he gave a short nod of approval for Sebastian to break the lock and let them inside.

 

The foyer of the manor was unlit and even darker than the moonlit night outside, but a snap of Sebastian's fingers lit the candles in the wall sconces. Ciel looked around—and gasped in shock when he saw corpses hanging everywhere!

 

...No, not corpses; mannequins, or pieces of mannequins. Tied into frames like grotesque parodies of bas-relief sculptures, tied up and dangling from wires suspended from the ceiling. Even though they were not true bodies, the effect was still horrific; this was a true 'manse macabre'.

 

"Master, we are no longer unobserved," Sebastian murmured, looking towards the grand staircase at the end of the foyer. Ciel followed his gaze, and saw a boy of perhaps ten years of age standing there; a boy smartly dressed, like the butler of a well-to-do-household. Acting somewhat like a butler as well, for the boy bowed to them, though rather sluggishly instead of the crisp movements expected of a fine family's servant. But as they drew near him, Ciel saw and was further disquieted by the boy's sunken eyes, his dull and lifeless features; as the Queen's Watchdog, he had seen even corpses that had died with more expression remaining to them.

 

"Take us to your master—your captor," the earl grimly corrected himself. Though he didn't recognize the boy from the photographs that were with the police records, he had no doubt that this child was a kidnap victim, not here by choice. The boy bowed sluggishly to them once more, and then turned and led them up the stairs.

 

"How should you like to proceed?" Sebastian murmured into Ciel's ear as they followed the child up the stairs. "Would you have me kill the baron immediately and extricate the children?"

 

"Wait," Ciel murmured back. "If the children are still alive, we should apprehend Kelvin first; obtain a confession. I cannot make a full report to Her Majesty the Queen, if I do not understand his objectives and the actual facts of the case."

 

"Understood, sir." Then Sebastian fell silent again, as they reached the top of the stairs and turned right, still following the child, into a room that appeared to be a typical nobleman's study, with a fire blazing in the hearth.

 

Two other servant-children were standing in the room, serving trays in their hands, as mute and expressionless as life-size dolls. And facing away from the door, someone adult-sized was seated close to the fire's warmth, reading. Without looking up from the book in his hands, the adult said in a curiously lilting voice, "Well, did you find out who had been naughty enough to make such noise late at night? Bring him here..."

 

The air of casual authority, the expensive silk dressing-gown; there was only one man that seated figure could be. Ciel declared in his most forbidding tones, " _Baron Kelvin_."

 

Clearly startled, the man lifted his head and turned his head to face them. Then it was Ciel's turn to be startled, because the face he vaguely remembered from the party five years ago and that he had seen in the pictures was now covered in bandages; only his mouth and one eye was visible. And the chair he was sitting in rolled slightly as he twisted in it; it was a wheeled chair such as they used for transporting invalids! Had the baron recently been in a carriage accident or similar incident?

 

The baron gasped, "Earl Phantomhive!"

 

The disquiet Ciel had been feeling since stepping into that macabre foyer, dissipated in his satisfaction at being instantly recognized for who and what he was. Not that he let that satisfaction show in his face or voice as he declared, "Yes. The Watchdog of the Queen has come, to demand an accounting of your criminal—"

 

Then Ciel was startled again, when the baron clapped his hands together in clear _delight_ instead of the expected fear or anger, while crowing, "You've come at last! I've been waiting for this moment for _years_ , and you've come at last!"

 

.

_To be continued!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Yes, the circus has a lion as well as a tiger in canon; he only appears in one panel of chapter 25, and is never mentioned by name, so I gave him one.


	7. Black Butterfly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _AKA: The Part Where It All Changes_

 

Sebastian had witnessed a great deal of human behavior over the course of his exceedingly long existence. He had observed more than once that while human technology had changed a great deal over the millennia, human behavior had changed very little overall. But one of the reasons he appreciated his current contractor more than any other human that he had served before eating, was that he was often _surprised_ by his little lord and the behavior of those the young master came in contact with; indeed, he had been surprised more often in just the last three years, than in the full three centuries prior.

 

Case in point, this Baron Kelvin that they were currently confronting for having orchestrated the serial kidnappings of children all across England. Upon recognizing that he was facing Earl Phantomhive, the Watchdog of the Queen, it would be expected for the baron to react with fear or anger; not to clap his hands together in rather childish glee while crowing, "You've come at last! I've been waiting for this moment for _years_ , and you've come at last!"

 

Then the baron leaned over in his wheeled chair in an attempt to peer past the demon and his master, while shouting gaily, "Job well done, Joker my lad! Well done indeed!"

 

"Job well done?" the young master echoed, his curiosity well-flavored with incredulity at the heavily-bandaged man's behavior.

 

"In bringing you from your home to here, of course!" the baron replied, as if there could not possibly be any other answer. And then he asked with what appeared to be an eagerly curious smile under all the bandages, "Tell me, did they set fire to the place as well? I forgot to tell them to do that in my letter, didn't remember until after I'd already sent it off, but it would have been even more perfect if they had!"

 

Well, that rather answered the question of where Joker and the other first-tier members had gone that afternoon, didn't it? Sebastian checked his pocketwatch as he did a few quick calculations: starting from the circus's current location and ten hours ago, assuming that they had kept their horses to a steady and sustainable pace for the journey, the troupe would have reached the Phantomhive Estate... right about now, actually.

 

But the attack elsewhere was of little importance; the lot of them would be dead within minutes of their arrival, likely less than five minutes after crossing the first line of the silent tripwires Sebastian had set all around the estate as warning systems. They'd last perhaps ten minutes at the outside, unless they had the sense to either flee or surrender at the very first sign of violence. Those three idiots were utterly incompetent when it came to serving guests, but they were quite effective indeed at killing intruders.

 

Then Baron Kelvin exclaimed, "But where are my manners? You must be famished after your long journey here... and we must have some entertainment, while waiting for a late supper!" Then he picked up a small silver bell and rang it merrily, the tinkling notes filling the air and drifting out into the hall beyond, before he began barking orders at the children in the room with them.

 

Two of the children went to the kitchens to prepare a repast as ordered, and the other two moved to push the wheeled chair out of the room and down the hall while the baron called out, "Joker, we need entertainment; go set up the acts! The tightrope, and the dagger-throwing, and oh! we mustn't forget the lion!" That last statement quite caught Sebastian's attention; dare he hope that the lion was actually a lioness?

 

But the young master had other priorities, of course. "Joker didn't bring us here; I discovered your connection to the circus on my own, and came here to investigate further!" he declared while stepping in front of the wheelchair, to bring it to a halt—except the boy and girl pushing the chair just guided it around him without stopping.

 

"D'you mean Joker isn't here?" the baron asked in surprise. "But who will be the ringmaster for tonight's circus acts? I know; I'll do it myself!" as he clapped his hands with rather gleeful resolve.

 

"I didn't come here for circus acts!" the young master declared impatiently, as he trotted forward and stepped in front of the chair again. "I want to know what you di—hey!" he exclaimed quite futilely, as the children pushing the chair just dodged around him again, since the hallway was far too wide for one person to block it. Keeping pace with the procession but far to one side, Sebastian wondered with some amusement just when his little contractor would remember to give him an order to stop it himself.

 

"Being a ringmaster will be fun! And it's easy, too," Baron Kelvin babbled mostly to himself, as other children began appearing in the hall, likely having been summoned by the bell earlier. They lined up silently against the wall, but the baron put them no heed as his chair rolled forward past the grand staircase to the foyer, heading for the mechanical lift that had been added on the far side of the hall. "Let's see, how do they always start it... _Ladies and gentlemen_! (Yes, that sounds right.) _Ladies and gentlemen_! We start our show tonight with an acrobatic act," as he unexpectedly reached back behind him to grab the boy of the pair pushing him, and dragged him forward by his shirt sleeve. "Watch this boy as he gracefully cartwheels down the stairs!" he declared, before giving the boy a hard shove to the side.

 

Unfortunately, there was nothing graceful about the boy's descent. With his superior hearing, Sebastian quite clearly heard four—no, _five_ bones breaking on the first impact, about twelve steps down from the top stair. From that point on, the action could be better described as _flopping_ rather than _cartwheeling_. But when the boy finally came to rest in a heap at the base of the stairs, Sebastian judiciously gave the corpse a little artistic credit, for the elegant patterns in two of the blood-spatters that had been made on the way down.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Ciel stared down at the what remained of the boy, thirty feet below at the base of the stairs. There was no need to ask Sebastian if he was dead; Ciel knew from prior Watchdog cases that no human could live with their head at _that_ angle. The flash of shock he'd felt, when the deed had been done so casually right in front of him, converted into a disgusted rage with that _odious, boorish_ , _basest excuse for nobility_ still prattling like a lunatic as he rolled towards the lift... but the skin of his forearms prickled with growing unease as he also observed the reactions of the other children:

 

No reactions at all.

 

No screams, no shouts, not even any gasps of surprise or horror; it was as if they hadn't even noticed what had happened. No, they'd noticed; another boy came forward and took the first boy's place in pushing the wheeled chair. But other than that, they took no more notice of a boy being pushed to his death right in front of them, than normal children would of a common fly buzzing through the room.

 

Ciel remembered _too damn well_ the last time he'd seen children with so little reaction to death in their midst, and his stomach roiled and churned at the memories. But he fought back the nauseating horror as he marched up and stiff-armed the boy away from his post, making him stumble back from the chair's left side. The girl on the right didn't stop pushing fast enough, making the chair veer to the left as it slowed, and as Ciel drew his pistol from its concealed holster.

 

The _criminally insane_ baron abruptly stopped his prattling and childlike giggling, when his left turn brought the drawn and cocked pistol into view, pointed right at the center of his bandaged forehead. Glaring past the barrel at his prey, the Queen's Watchdog snarled, " _I've seen enough_! Vile, wretched vermin... Where are the kidnapped children?!"

 

The madman actually had the nerve to look _surprised_ to see a gun pointed at him. "Eh? What's this—oh, you want to see them? They're in the basement, so I'll just show you the way now! And there's something else downstairs that I want to show you besides!"

 

Baron Kelvin, his chair pushers, Ciel and Sebastian all rode in the lift to the ground floor, while the other children made a silent procession down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, two children began tugging away the corpse sprawled there, while two more fetched a bucket of water and scrub brushes, and all in eerie silence... broken only by the baron's bizarrely cheerful comment over his shoulder to Ciel, keeping pace with his gun still aimed and ready. "To be strolling beside you this way is really like a dream come true!"

 

"Enough of your idle chatter," Ciel growled. "Just take me to the children!"

 

"I'm just so very happy now," the madman said in what he probably thought was an explanation, as they proceeded down a narrow hallway. "I've been full of regret ever since that day!" The hallway ended in an anteroom capped by a wide set of stout oaken doors as he continued, "I wondered over and over why I couldn't have been there by your side, on that day, in that place."

 

"That day?" Ciel echoed. "By my... side? What the hell are you going on about, man?"

 

Instead of answering him, the baron yammered on as the children who had been pushing his chair stepped forward to open the doors. "I can't turn back time, no matter how much I regret it. But then I realized it! That if I can't turn back time, I can just do it over again!"

 

The doors swung open, and the baron announced, "There! Feast your eyes!"

 

Ciel looked... and then his innards turned to ice.

 

Oh god it was all too sickeningly familiar: the circular amphitheater, the altar at its center, the pentagram carved into the floor, the _cages_ around the altar, _the children_ in the cages...

 

He dimly heard past the roaring in his ears, the baron's declaration of "It took me three whole years to prepare this. Now let us recreate it anew, Earl Phantomhive! That fateful day which came to pass three years ago!"

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

My, my... the sight did indeed bring back memories.

 

But Sebastian was drawn from his pleasant reverie by Baron Kelvin's babbling, doubtless trying to explain himself to the young master, though Sebastian could tell through that the boy was in no state to hear him. Well, of course the memories would be far less pleasant for his contractor; that was to be expected.

 

Listening to the baron's monologue, describing how he'd first met the Phantomhives at a ball and been struck by their cool beauty and changed himself to be worthy of them, et cetera, et cetera, Sebastian had a thought as to a possible underlying cause... inhaled deeply, while opening his thoughts and stretching his awareness wide to encompass the entire estate... But no, by neither scent nor thought, he could detect no other demons in the vicinity. A Grim Reaper's presence hovered at the edge of his awareness, doubtless coming to reap the soul and cinematic record of the child who'd fallen down the stairs, but no other demons.

 

Sebastian had noted the changed pattern in the baron's tax documents, while researching his holdings at the Board of Inland Revenue to get the address of Kelvin Manor. Up until five years ago, the baron had expended quite a bit of money on charity and philanthropy, but that had changed quite suddenly. And from what the baron was saying now, that change in expenditures had evidently been caused by his sudden obsession with the Phantomhives. It would explain quite a bit if another demon had come along five years ago and decided to meddle with the baron's mind; such an act was possible, though Sebastian never bothered to do so. (It took rather a large amount of power to warp a human's mind enough to create such an all-consuming obsession in them, and he had noted millennia ago that humans were quite capable of sinking to glorious depravities all on their own; why extend such effort, when all one had to do was wait a while and see what developed?)

 

The current atmosphere of Kelvin Manor was certainly enough to cause a lesser and unrefined demon to lick his metaphorical chops; the very air was saturated in misery, in fear worn dull by its omnipresence. (Of course Sebastian had higher standards than that; he preferred souls flavored with more than just sheer misery, just as his little lord preferred sweets that were more than simple sugar cubes.) But he could not detect any other demon's presence in the manor, or even any residual essence; it would seem that Baron Kelvin had twisted and sunk to such perverted levels all on his own.

 

Ah, the monologue seemed to be coming to an end now, with the baron turning his chair to address Sebastian's little lord directly. "It was you, wasn't it, Earl? You did them a favor and killed them all. Ahh, how I envy them! One couldn't ask for a most beauteous final moment, bidding farewell to life with the cold moon attending one's deathbed. Please! Let me join their ranks!" He flung his arms in an expansive gesture that encompassed the entire chamber as he continued, "This is all as it was on that day! Look; I've got everything ready: the venue for the ritual. The lambs. And last but not least, _you_ , my dear earl! To be honest, I've wanted to come get you myse--" the baron's voice cut off abruptly, as the earl shot him in the stomach.

 

...How odd; for just an instant, Sebastian had the impression that there was someone else down here in this chamber, someone that threatened his young master and therefore also merited a slow death. But there were no other threats down here, just the children in the cages, and the two who had pushed the baron's chair here and still waited silently off to one side.

 

His master's breath came in quick, harsh pants, and not just the boy's hands but his entire body trembled, as the baron screamed and toppled from his wheeled chair. Sebastian waited, wondering if he would need to intervene; to rouse the boy from what was likely another of his unfortunate episodes.

 

From time to time since they had formed their contract, his little lord would become lost in what some might call a 'waking nightmare', though Sebastian favored the term 'involuntary traumatic recall'. Memories of Ciel Phantomhive's terrible experiences at the hands of the cultists would rise up and temporarily overwhelm his mind, to the point that he lost all awareness of his physical surroundings and thought himself back in that cage again. When that happened, occasionally it was necessary for someone else to rouse him, to bring him back to reality.

 

The first time the young master had experienced one of those unfortunate episodes, while they were still training each other on the skills required of a butler and an earl, Sebastian had lightly shaken the boy's shoulder to rouse him... and immediately been shot for his troubles. Which _stung_ a great deal more than the average bullet wound, as any blow from a demon's contractor always had more impact on him, and moreover left holes and gunpowder stains in his uniform. Thereafter, he had taken to disarming the boy even while rousing him, but Sebastian was quite sure that the young master would object most strenuously to being disarmed while they were still on a case for the Queen. _Singing_ to him was an option; he and the servants had discovered quite by accident over a year ago that the sound of someone singing nursery rhymes or other happy melodies from Ciel's childhood would bring him out of the episode quite painlessly. But Sebastian had to admit that a happy tune seemed _singularly_ inappropriate for their current venue.

 

On the stone floor and sobbing from the pain, Baron Kelvin writhed about as he wailed, "It huuurrrts, Earl; I'm in agonyyy!" One of his flailing arms caught the young master's leg, and he hung onto it as he moaned, "P-please, I... I beg you... If-if you're going to kill me, kill me just like you did them!"

 

"Like I did them?" the boy echoed—and Sebastian relaxed, watching with what some might call a fond smile as his young master brutally kicked free of the baron's grip, and kept one high-heeled shoe on that bandaged head. The Queen's Watchdog was plainly in full possession of his faculties as he sighted down the barrel of his pistol and ordered the baron, "Then get on your knees like a worm, and plead with the devil."

 

"The baron might have difficulties getting on his knees, with you pinning his head down in that manner," Sebastian felt obliged to point out with a smirk.

 

"Shut it, Sebastian," the little lord ordered irritably, exactly as expected. That was followed by, "Are all the kidnapped children down here?"

 

Sebastian just gave his master a look with his eyebrows raised, and pointed with a gloved finger to his closed lips. The boy audibly gritted his teeth before barking, "All right, you can talk now!" He glared at Sebastian while accusing, "You're enjoying every minute of this, aren't you?"

 

"Quite so," Sebastian admitted with a fang-filled grin. He was really feeling quite playful, likely due to this heady atmosphere of misery, pain and horror, and now his contractor's spike of frustrated anger was really the icing on the cake!

 

Then he heard, beyond the closed doors to the chamber, the squeaks of more wheels approaching. "I believe someone else has arrived at the manor," he informed the earl.

 

"Likely whatever vicious _thugs_ helped this vile, boorish madman keep so many children prisoner in his home," the young master opined while giving the baron another small kick to the head. "Go fetch them down here, Sebastian."

 

"That won't be necessary, young master; they are already headed this way," Sebastian said as he produced a dagger from inside his coat.

 

The squeaking of wheels grew louder, loud enough for even a human to hear them, just before the double doors to the chamber swung open. The new arrival called out cheerfully, "Apologies for having kept you waiting on additional reserves!" And even Sebastian, who had seen a great deal in his innumerable years of existence, felt a stirring of surprise as he gazed up at the circus's wheelchair-bound doctor.

 

The doctor was clearly surprised to see them as well. "Eh? Black and Smile?" But after a rather awkward pause, the doctor said knowingly, "Not father and son at all, are you? I've heard of you," as he gripped the armrests of his wheeled chair—and smoothly rose up out of it. He descended the stone steps leading towards the altar as he continued, "The legendary watch-pup of the Queen, all the more trouble than the Yard because money has no hold on him."

 

The young master must have been far more surprised than Sebastian was, because he only now found his voice again, and moreover felt the need to state the obvious: "Doctor, you can walk!"

 

"Hm? Oh, yes; my legs and back are just fine," the doctor said with what appeared to be a confiding grin. "Children like you and the ones in the baron's circus are less suspicious of folk in such circumstances, so I just always stayed seated."

 

But then the doctor caught sight of the bloody heap on the floor behind them, and his confiding grin disappeared. "Baron Kelvin?!" He rushed down the steps to look over the baron, who was now barely conscious after being shot in the gut _and_ kicked in the head, and after only a cursory examination the doctor shook his head in dismay. "He's beyond my help now. How could you? And after I'd finally met a patron who understood my ideals..."

 

"Your ideals?" Sebastian echoed, mildly curious.

 

"Yes. Since long ago, I've continually developed and experimented in the quest for the perfect artificial limb. And as a result of my research, I succeeded in creating the best material possible!" as the doctor's voice waxed enthusiastic. "Lighter and more durable than wood, and still possessing the inhuman beauty that is particular to ceramics... I came to create something that no one had ever made before. However, gathering the raw materials for it is a rather complicated venture, you see."

 

Touching a gloved hand to his chin, Sebastian recollected aloud, "Indeed, the artificial limbs of your making were enchantingly silken to the touch... almost like tableware of bone china." He of all demons would know that sensation, having handled so much bone china tableware over the last few years of being employed as a butler.

 

"So you understand the beauty of my creation, do you, Black?" as the doctor gave him a wide, almost mischievous-looking smile. "But in reality, you're still slightly off the mark!" He wagged an admonishing finger as he said, "If you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you didn't lump my creation in with bone china, which is made with the bones of cows and other livestock."

 

"Ah, yes. You did mention that you use special materials, did you not?" Sebastian now had a rather strong hunch he knew what the doctor's creation consisted of, but he still preferred to have that guess confirmed.

 

"Yes, that's right, and I can only obtain them here," the doctor confirmed, as Sebastian sensed as much as saw his little lord go pale and shaking once more, breathing out an almost inaudible word of denial. His contractor did have an exceptionally quick mind for a child...

 

Leaning on one of the cages containing his "supplies", the doctor continued with a positively _cheeky_ grin, "This way, I don't have to trouble myself with their disposal, either. Isn't it the best recycling scheme you can think of?"

 

The doctor unlocked the cage and reached in for one of its occupants, a girl whom he dragged out by the collar of her ragged dress; she put up no resistance as he tugged her towards the altar, ranting the whole while about how genius his work was but nobody appreciated it, due to some arbitrary rules of the society they lived in. Sebastian supposed he could stop the doctor from killing the girl on the altar, but at the moment he had a far more pressing concern; his little master had just begun vomiting from horror-induced nausea. And unless Sebastian misremembered the medical text he had read only the night before—which was impossible—his contractor's panic attack showed symptoms of becoming a full-fledged asthmatic attack! Oh dear, this would not do at all...

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

_The cages_

_Cold_

_Filth_

_Bloody_

_Altar_

_No!_

_Stop_

**_please_ **

_Someone stop it_

_Somebody, anybody!_

_Whomever, however, please help us!_

_Stop_

_Don't_

**_please_ ** _stop—_

 

"Young master," someone said— _Sebastian_ said tenderly, squeezing his outstretched hand, and then holding him close and warm. He murmured gently, as a father to a frightened child, "What have you to fear?"

 

Firm arms cradled him and garnet eyes held his own as Sebastian said firmly, "You are _outside_ the cage now, my lord." And then garnet turned to glowing cerise as Ciel felt the ties of his eyepatch being loosened; the black silk fell away, exposing the seal of the contract between them as the demon purred, "Now... call my name."

 

And at first he _couldn't_ , couldn't get the breath for speech, his chest squeezing inwards to crush his lungs while his heart threatened to burst inside him—but he kept trying, he could do this, he had to do this! "Seb-! Seb-! Sebas-! Stian! Sebastian! _Sebastian_!" as he gripped at his butler's jacket, and finally drew enough breath to give his order: " ** _Kill them!_** "

 

Sebastian pressed him closer, leaning his small body against the demon's right shoulder, while he freed and struck out with his left hand. Ciel was shielded from the sight, but he didn't need sight to tell him that the bloody _squelch_ full of crackling sounds that he heard, was Sebastian shoving his hand right through the doctor's ribcage.

 

Four paces forward and to the right, and then a _stomp_ with more squelching and cracking sounds... that would be the abominable baron, likely with a now flattened head.

 

"It is done," Sebastian said softly, reassuringly, his words meant to say: _It's over_.

 

But it wasn't over yet; Ciel opened his mouth to give the final order—

 

"please..."

 

...Who said that?

 

He pulled back to look Sebastian in the eye, but the demon was looking off to the right, at the middle of the three cages. Inside it, a little girl dressed in soiled rags was leaning up against the bars, looking out at them. One skeleton-thin hand crept forward, to slowly and shakily reach between the bars towards them, and they heard again, "...please..."

 

"Let me down," Ciel ordered his butler, and Sebastian complied. He crouched in front of the cage, staring hard at the girl, and demanded, “Please what?”

 

But she could only stare at him and whisper once more, "Please..."

 

After a second of just staring at her, Ciel said almost angrily, "Never mind, I already know. Whether it's to be rescued or to be put out of your misery, you just want out of this damned cage!" He glanced at the other children in the cages, some of them lying apparently asleep but others staring wordlessly back at him, and then jumped to his feet with his cape swirling about him, and shouted, "Sebastian! Get all these children out of the cages and out of this house—and then burn _everything_ to ashes! Burn it all till there's nothing left, and _Do it NOW_!"

 

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian said with a bow, and then

 

_—he **moved** —_

 

Ciel's ears were assaulted by a cacophony of screeching metal as the cages around him seemingly burst open all at once, while a blurred black form swept through the room fast enough to leave a sudden fierce wind howling in its wake.

 

The cages burst open, the children stuffed within them vanished two or three at a time, and then Ciel was left in stillness, a seemingly muffled silence after the concatenation of moments before. A silence that lasted for a full ten seconds, much longer than he'd been expecting; Ciel frowned, opened his mouth—

 

And then Sebastian appeared before him with a bow and a polite, "If you will permit me, my lord." He then tugged off his left glove, revealing the contract seal, and stuffed the glove into his tailcoat's pocket before sweeping Ciel into his arms.

 

Sebastian touched his black-nailed hand to the small flames atop the candelabra... and the tiny flames became an _Inferno_ that roared up to the ceiling an instant later. The Hellfire swept through the basement in seconds, and then raged across the whole mansion as Sebastian swiftly carried his master upwards and out, the searing flames parting before them at the demon's wordless bidding.

 

When they reached the safety of the wide expanse of lawn outside the mansion, Ciel thought he saw someone approaching, a man who was pushing something that looked like a lawn mower of some sort. A lawn mower, in the dead of winter? But then he blinked and the man was gone; had he really seen it at all?

 

The thought was driven away a moment later, as he stared in dismay at the much larger sight before him, one that refused to disappear:

 

Dozens of children, some in dirty rags but most in either fancy clothes or servants' outfits, laid out on the frost-covered grass in orderly rows like silverware in a giant's drawer. Some of the children were lying down, some were sitting up, but none of them were moving from where they'd been placed by a demon butler in a hurry.

 

"Bloody hell," Ciel groaned, clutching at his hair in sheer stress. "I didn't mean _all_ of them!"

 

"My lord?" as Sebastian gave him a perplexed look. "You said 'get all these children out of these cages and out of this house'. Your precise words, my lord."

 

Ciel groaned again, covering his eyes and shaking his head. "I meant, get all the children in the _cages_ out of the house! Just the ones who still had some spark of life, some hope of recovery. The ones in the rest of the house... you saw their condition! Their dead eyes, their complete lack of will, dying without protest at the baron's slightest whim... They're so far gone, they're scarcely more than corpses that haven't stopped breathing yet!" as he gestured in disgust out at the assembly before them.

 

One hand clenched into a fist at his side, he raised the other to start pointing and counting by the light of the inferno behind them, even as he continued ranting. "Even some of the children in the cages had reached that stage already! I just didn't want to take the time to sort out the living from the barely-living while we were down in that hellish place. Now what the hell are we going to do with... _eighty-seven_?! Eighty-seven children, most of them walking corpses, and here we are stuck with them in the middle of the countryside, and in the dead of winter!” He gestured angrily at the assembly as he shouted at Sebastian, “What do you expect me to do now, stuff them all _in my pocket_ to carry back to the Queen?!"

 

"This is a problem," Sebastian agreed while looking over their human harvest, rubbing his chin in thought.

 

Ciel finally sighed as he dropped his hands and shook his head, "Well, it can't be helped now. Even I'm not hard-hearted enough to order you to carry them back inside to burn." Not now that they were _outside_ that horrible place, breathing fresh if bitterly cold air, with the moon and twinkling stars shining down on them... No, he wouldn't toss them back into their prison to burn, even if a swift death would probably be the kindest solution for everyone concerned.

 

He pitied the families out there who were hoping to get their children back, but would instead receive only broken shells of what _used_ _to be_ their children. But his servant was a _demon_ , not an angel; true miracles were beyond even Sebastian's abilities.

 

He continued aloud, "We'll have to put them somewhere safe until the Yard can collect the lot of them." A barn or large stable should do for overnight, provided one was nearby, and assuming it had plenty of hay that could be used as primitive insulation from the cold. Though _feeding_ the poor wretches would be another matter...

 

Sebastian nodded acknowledgment, still looking thoughtfully at the rows of children on the frost-covered grass. "It is a large task, but I believe I can manage that for you... if you will give me the discretion to use my _full_ abilities. With your permission, my lord?"

 

"...All right," Ciel said wearily, slumping over to brace himself on his knees; now that the danger had passed, he felt exhausted from the sheer stress of having relived the horror of that month in captivity. "Just this once, you can use outright sorcery for whatever we need. It's likely that most of these pitiable creatures wouldn't care even if you made Buckingham Palace and a thousand elephants appear right in front of them."

 

"That isn't quite what I had in mind," Sebastian said with a soft chuckle under his breath, as he gestured off to the side at a very large hay-wagon, one that definitely hadn't been there earlier. The wagon was as wide and long as a railroad car, and instead of hay, it was heaped with thick black blankets all along its length.

 

It was the work of mere minutes for Sebastian to load all the children into the wagon and bundle each one of them in a blanket, covered completely from head to toe. Meanwhile, Ciel clambered up into the driver's seat, and then reached back to the cargo area and, anticipating a drive of some distance ahead of them, grabbed a blanket to wrap himself in—an exceptionally soft blanket of velvet weave, but composed of a material that was neither silk nor wool, or any other fiber he was familiar with. As he rubbed it between his fingers, the thought flickered across his mind that he’d quite like a full set of bedding made out of the material, if it could be made in colors other than black.

 

But as he bundled up and lay down the last child, Sebastian shook his head at his master and said, "I most humbly beg your pardon, Young Master, but in this instance it would be far better for all concerned if you rode back here with the other passengers, and similarly covered as well. I have saved a space for you to rest here, at the front; please take advantage of it."

 

Ciel frowned, but acquiesced without comment; he knew Sebastian would not group his contracted master in with these pitiable creatures unless he had good reason for doing so, likely something to do with his supernatural abilities. And he was right; as Sebastian wrapped him in the blanket, the demon butler explained, "We are about to travel through an extremely unpleasant area. I will of course protect everyone in the wagon from harm, but it will save considerable trouble if you neither see anything, nor can be seen directly." Sebastian's look was grave indeed as he said just before covering Ciel's face with the black material, "Master, I ask this in all earnestness; _please_ restrain your urge to peek."

 

Ciel glared at him, though mostly for form's sake, and then the butler vanished from his view. Staring up at darkness, Ciel felt the wagon lurch into motion, heard the wheels creak as they rolled—

 

And then his eardrums were nearly blasted inwards into his brain by a horrible noise, indescribable, though it reminded him simultaneously of both shotgun blasts going off at close range, and fingernails screeching down a chalkboard. An image flashed into his head, of a corpse they'd stumbled across at the docks last summer while working on another case for Her Majesty; the victim had been killed by someone driving an ice pick into his skull through his ear, and Ciel was abruptly sure he now knew _just_ what that must have felt like.

 

The cacophony was so horrendously loud, Ciel literally _could not hear himself think_. But he grimly counted in his head anyway, and when he reached the count of six the noise abruptly cut off. Through the sudden ringing in his ears he managed to hear his demon servant say,"You may uncover your face now, Young Master. We have arrived at our..." Sebastian's voice trailed off for a moment, and then he spoke again, sounding distinctly annoyed. "Oh, this simply will not do."

 

Ciel struggled to a sitting position and pushed the blanket off his head and shoulders, to discover that they were parked on the lawn directly behind Phantomhive Manor. "We're home?!" Normally he would have been quite pleased at such a swift return and the prospect of sleeping in his own bed, but these were hardly normal circumstances; not with over seven dozen children in the wagon with him!

 

"There are plenty of other places that could be considered 'somewhere safe'! I don't—hn?" Ciel interrupted his own grouching when he began noticing signs of violence, dimly illuminated by the stars and crescent moon overhead. Two of the ornamental trees had been knocked over, and in the distance he noted that a wall had been smashed in.

 

It was the wrong season for Finny to get overexcited while chasing butterflies again, so they must have had a battle recently. Most likely cause: the circus performers **/** kidnappers had arrived at the estate already...

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

When he stepped inside the grand hallway leading up to the mansion's main staircase, Sebastian saw:

 

Joker, Beast and Dagger, roughly a quarter of the way up the stairs, with their weapons out but beating a retreat.

 

Baldroy the chef at the first landing, armed with a frying pan but coughing harshly, with assorted daggers and the shards of two small glass spheres scattered about him. There was some sort of gas wafting upwards from the shards of glass, likely the reason for Bard's violent coughing.

 

Finnian standing on the eastern landing, preparing to throw one of the many decorative busts and statues that lined the wide staircase.

 

The remains of two more statues scattered on the stairs, and a total of eleven steps already damaged from the impacts of the statues.

 

Then his black blurred form whipped through the great hall. Less than two seconds later, Bard and Finny saw:

 

Four heaps at the base of the grand stairs, all spaced several feet apart. Three of the heaps consisted of the three crazily-dressed people who had been attacking them, each one looking both bewildered and outraged at being manhandled so abruptly and efficiently. The fourth heap was a pile of daggers and brightly colored spheres, and... artificial limbs?! A right leg, a left leg, and a downright skeletal-looking right arm.

 

The whip that the female attacker had been using wasn't in the pile of weapons; instead it had been torn into three pieces, and two pieces already used to bind the hands of the female and the smaller male behind their backs. And the black blur had slowed down to become Sebastian, using the third piece of whip to tie together the feet of the third attacker.

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Joker, Dagger and Beast had already been freaked out by the sight of a blond-haired boy throwing full-sized marble statues around as easily as Joker threw his juggling clubs. But that was nothing compared to their reactions as a black blurred form, moving far too fast to be human, grabbed at them and they abruptly found themselves separated and forcibly disarmed—and de-legged, in Beast and Dagger's cases! And their shock was complete when the blurred form finally slowed down enough for them to see that the one who'd captured them was— _Black_!

 

Bewildered and outraged, they still found their voices enough to demanded of their new friend and fellow performer, "Black?! What are you doing here?" "How did you get here? Why are you—" "Black, get these bastards for us! We've got to complete our mission!"

 

"I think not," Black said coolly as he finished rendering Joker helpless, in a manner both effective and tauntingly cruel; he simply yanked the man's puffed sleeve down over the remaining hand, and swiftly tied a knot at the end of the sleeve. "And in this place, I am not referred to as Black; I am _Sebastian_."

 

"Sebastian!" the little blond statue-thrower shouted happily as he dashed down the stairs and threw himself at Black in a hug. "You're back! Is the master with you?"

 

"(cough) Glad to have you back, man," the cook said as he tucked the frying pan under his arm and came down the stairs at a slower pace, wiping at his face and thumping his chest to get the last of Joker's gas out of his lungs. "You didn't have to rush, though; we (cough) had a handle on things here."

 

"Your method of handling the situation has already resulted in considerable damage to the master's home," Black replied with clear disapproval, making the little blond Samson back off and cringe guiltily. "I felt it necessary to step in to prevent more damage from being done."

 

Just then a housemaid came dashing down the staircase, her uniform skirts hiked up and her cap askew, with one hand holding a thick pair of glasses onto her face. She gasped, "The master's coming! Right now, he is!"

 

At the base of the stairs, the maid fell in line with the cook and the statue-thrower, just as an elderly and well-dressed gentleman appeared at the top of the stairs. The circus performers glared up at him, guessing that he was the master that the maid had just referred to; the upper-crust bloke that owned this fancy mansion and was related to their target Ciel Phantomhive. But to their surprise, when he reached the bottom of the stairs the elderly man fell in line with the other servants, just a moment before they heard the sound of a door opening behind them.

 

Still bound on the floor, the trio twisted around to face the door to outside, and saw a midget dressed all in black—no, not a midget adult, a little boy instead... and a boy they recognized! "Smile?!"

 

The boy glared at them as he said coldly, "No, not Smile! I will never again answer to that.You will address me by not just my true name but my title! I am _the Earl Ciel Phantomhive_."

 

"Phantomhive!" Dagger gasped. "You?! You're the targ—"

 

"I am the Queen's Watchdog," the little boy interrupted and overrode him, his teeth bared in what was _definitely not_ _a smile_. "And I infiltrated your circus on Her Majesty's orders, to find the connection between the circus and a series of kidnappings and then to put a stop to them, by any means necessary!"

 

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"And that's all the time I'll spare on explaining my mission to _kidnappers_ ," Ciel declared, all but spitting the last word out, as he turned away from the circus performers to face his servants. "Now, are these all that's left of the strike force?"

 

"Near as we can tell, Sir," Bard said with a crisp salute. "Mey-Rin reported killing two of them, and Finny got another."

 

"What?!" "Th-they're _dead_?!" "NO! No, damn you all, how dare you—"

 

"Sebastian, gags on the lot," Ciel said while jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the captives, not even bothering to look at them. Their shouts and curses were abruptly silenced, and Ciel continued on, "I was told Lady Elizabeth is here; is she all right?"

 

"Her sleep was momentarily disturbed, when Mey-Rin dispatched an attacker who then crashed through a window near her bedroom,"   Tanaka said with a short bow. "But she has returned to bed, still unaware that an attack occurred. We shall need to do a spot of cleaning in that hallway, however."

 

Mey-Rin looked embarrassed. "Sorry! I'll get to it right away!"

 

Ciel shook his head as he said, "That will have to wait; right now we have a far larger matter to deal with. Because _somebody_ couldn't think of anyplace better to take them on short notice, right now we have _eighty-seven children_ loaded into a wagon outside, and most of them more than half-dead from abuse." He continued over the servants' gasps of shock and dismay, "They won’t be here long, or at least they’d damn well better _not_ be here long, but tonight and for probably the next few days, we’ll have to take care of them as best we can. Particularly since the Queen herself has taken an interest in their recovery!"

 

"Yes, sir!" the servants shouted as one, with crisp salutes or in Sebastian's case with an equally crisp bow.

 

Ciel nodded acknowledgment before he began giving orders. "Mey-Rin and Tanaka, open up and pull the dust covers from every bedroom in both wings, and throw the thickest blankets onto the beds. Once that's done, you’ll be giving baths to the children that need them most. Finny, you and Sebastian will carry all the children in out of the cold, and once they're all inside, you’ll be fetching buckets of hot water from the kitchen as they’re needed. Bard, first we need lots of hot water for baths; all the children you'll see dressed in rags were being kept in cages like animals, and they'll need baths to clean the filth off before they're put to bed. Sebastian, how many did you pull from the cages?"

 

"Twenty-two, my lord; thirteen boys and nine girls."

 

Ciel swore a particularly vile curse under his breath. "Right, then; empty out my closets and Finny's cupboard for temporary clothes for the boys, and... dammit, it can't be helped; wake up Lady Elizabeth and ask her to donate some clothes for the girls. Once you have enough clothes and all the children are inside, start the baths until Tanaka can take over. And Bard, after you start the water heating, heat up whatever milk we have on hand as well, and then go out and wake up the farmer that minds the dairy herd, and tell him we need all the dairy cattle milked immediately." Ciel sighed wearily, and his next words were slightly muffled as he ran a hand over his face. "We're going to need _so much_ warm milk with honey..."

 

While the servants dashed off to carry out the orders they had just been given, Ciel went up to his study, to call the palace and make his report to Her Majesty.

 

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Ever the perfectionist, Sebastian took a few moments before going outside to deal with the circus performers still breathing and get them out of the way, while he directed Finny to clear the largest chunks of rubble to one side of the hall. Then he dashed into the kitchen to advise Bard in a pleasant tone of voice, “Do remember that the master said ‘ _warm_ milk with honey’, not ‘ _hot_ milk with honey’. The milk should be only a little warmer than the temperature of your own blood. If you overheat it with your usual methods, then I shall be happy to spill a sufficient quantity of that blood to provide you with a reference for heating.”

 

Bard gave a curt nod of understanding as he poured milk into a pot and set it on the stove, and pointedly put the burner on the lowest setting before he resumed filling all their other pots with water for heating. Satisfied that he’d gotten his point across, Sebastian dashed back into the main hall.

 

Once they had a large clear area for bringing the children in, he led the way outside and pointed Finny towards the wagon he’d created, and told him, “Start with the closest; uncover their faces so that they’ll know you’re not one of their former captors and mean no harm, and then simply carry them inside, blankets and all. Once they're inside, take their blankets off and fold them into floor cushions. Start now, and I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

 

Clouds were rolling in overhead, heavy with snow, and Sebastian thought it best to tidy up the worst of the messes that the servants had made outdoors before it fell. They would have visitors arriving at the manor very soon, certainly Scotland Yard and possibly parents looking to reclaim their kidnapped children, and it simply wouldn’t do if one of them stumbled over a corpse buried in the snow; that would reflect ill on the master’s household.

 

He sniffed for fresh-spilled blood, followed the scent to the nearest corpse… and found the shinigami William T. Spears standing over the corpse of Jumbo, making a final note in his notebook before snapping it closed. Spears noticed him in the next instant, and gave him a glare of sheer dislike before snapping his Deathscythe in the demon’s direction, in silent warning to keep his distance.

 

Sebastian had the same amount of affection for Reapers as they did for him—absolutely zero—but he set that aside for a moment as he stared at the shinigami, that odd feeling of ‘ _something is out of place_ ’ from a few days ago coming back to hit him full-force. “Spears. You… you did not appear at the circus.”

 

“You have an amazing grasp of the obvious, demon,” Spears commented dryly as he shouldered his Deathscythe. “Now move aside; I’ve one more to reap here before I can clock out, and if you get in my way, I’ll reap _you_.”

 

“Oh, but that would put you into overtime, would it not?” Sebastian felt compelled to taunt him, while nonetheless standing aside, he really had no time for fighting right now. But he still asked, “Were you not supposed to be… on assignment at the circus? Investigating?”

 

Spears gave him an arched eyebrow as he said, “For your information, a special investigation is warranted only when there is a high enough concentration of deaths at one specific time and place... and that is not the case, here and now. For which I’m quite thankful, as we are understaffed at the moment. Particularly since that idiot Grell is only now coming off probation, thanks to his…” Spears’ grumbling trailed behind him as he went off to Reap another performer, likely the one that Tanaka had said left a mess in the hallway outside Lady Elizabeth’s guest room.

 

Sebastian left the death god to his work without further interference, while he quickly rebuilt the wall Finny had smashed in and hauled the corpses off into the woods for later disposal. The demon would have bet his next two contracted souls that the shinigami had additional knowledge of the situation that he hadn't been willing to share... but that odd sensation he'd felt was already fading, and battling a hostile Reaper solely to obtain information would take more time and energy than he had to spare tonight; he had quite a bit of work to do.

 

 

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_._

_To be continued..._


	8. The Very Long Night

 

After Tanaka had reassured her that she must have dreamed about hearing a loud crashing sound, Lizzie got back into bed, nestling gratefully under the covers that were still toasty-warm. She had almost drifted back into sleep again when she heard a knock at her door, and a moment later heard it opening. She quickly sat up just as Sebastian came in, with a candelabra in hand and his brow creased with concern instead of his usual placid smile. "Lady Elizabeth? I deeply apologize for disturbing you..."

 

"Sebastian, you're back! Then is Ciel back as well?" she said excitedly as she started to get out of bed—and then froze for just a moment, as realization turned her excitement into growing apprehension. Ciel wouldn't have her woken up in the middle of the night just to tell her he'd returned home; something must be dreadfully wrong!

 

"Yes, my lady; we've just returned. And unfortunately, we must ask a great favor of you..."

 

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Sitting at the desk in his study with the phone receiver pressed to his ear, Ciel found himself starting to yawn, and bit it off violently. Agents of Her Royal Majesty simply did not yawn like sleepy toddlers while on the telephone! But he'd been awake for over eighteen hours, judging by the clock on the mantle, and that had included several hours of vigorously practicing his circus routine before they'd finally gotten the break they needed in this case, and gone hunting for Baron Kelvin and the kidnapping victims. But he had to put the delightful idea of going to sleep in his own oh-so-comfortable bed off for a few hours more; there was so much that needed to be done before he could rest...

 

It took over a dozen rings for the telephone to be picked up on the other end of the line at Buckingham Palace, and it was all Ciel could do to not snap at the man who finally answered it. For heaven's sake, didn't Her Majesty employ someone to mind that line around the clock?! This was supposed to be a private line that went straight to Double Charles, the Queen's own butlers; no one would dare use the line for trivial matters like invitations to ribbon-cutting ceremonies!

 

He tried to be civil, but the lateness of the hour and his irritation at being kept waiting so long made it rather more terse than polite. "This is the Watchdog. Please inform Her Majesty that the Pied Piper is dead, and most of his known minions either dead or captured. Regrettably, a few of the Piper's kidnapping victims were killed before their rescue, but the rest were found alive... and there were _three times as many_ victims than were listed as likely 'Pied Piper' kidnappings in the police reports."

 

"Th-three times as many?" gasped the butler on the other end of the line—clearly not either Charles Grey or Charles Phipps, who would not be so rattled at the news. Ordinarily Ciel would have wondered why they had left some under-butler to answer their line and where they had gone to, but this was not an ordinary night.

 

"Yes; a total of _eighty-seven children_ were pulled out alive before their prison was burned down with their captors inside it. But most of these children are in a deplorable state, more dead than alive, and it's doubtful that many of them will recover completely from their ordeal. Still, all 87 children are currently at Phantomhive Manor, and we'll try our best to keep them alive, warm and fed until other agents of Her Majesty can come to collect them... but _please_ arrange for that as soon as possible." And then he hung up while the sputtering fool on the other end was still trying to decide what questions to ask; he was in _absolutely no mood_ for dithering, not when there was so much left to do tonight.

 

As he left the study, Lizzie came running up to him wearing a robe over her nightgown and a worried expression. "Ciel! Sebastian told me you just freed dozens of children from a vile captivity and brought them here, and now you need to bathe and clothe some of them!"

 

"That's right. I’m truly sorry to ask it of you, but we need to borrow any clothes you can spare," Ciel told her as he led her down the hallway, towards the stairs.

 

"I told Sebastian to just take everything but the clothes I'm wearing now," Lizzie said as they stepped out onto the grand staircase—and then she stopped in her tracks and gasped with dismay at the scene spread out before them in the great hall below; rows upon rows of children sitting or lying on the floor, with Finny carefully setting down another one in the seventh row before dashing outside for more.

 

After descending the staircase, Ciel faced the first row of children, all of them wearing servants' clothes; Sebastian and Finny were separating out ragged from decently clothed children as they were brought inside and sat down. They were all staring blankly at him, with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks from continual lack of sufficient or sufficiently nutritious food; their expressions unchanged from how the children had all looked back at Baron Kelvin’s manor, despite their circumstances being different now.   He heaved a great sigh, feeling the press of duty bearing down on his thin shoulders, before he started at the head of the row and walked a few paces, tapping heads as he went. "One, two, three, four. You four that I just tapped, on your feet and follow me; bring the blankets you were given."

 

The four boys he'd tapped rose obediently if sluggishly to their feet, and once they were all standing, Ciel gestured for them to follow him upstairs. He climbed the stairs at a slow pace, glancing repeatedly behind him to be sure none of the boys were lagging behind, or stumbling and falling to their deaths; the sight of that boy splattered at the base of the stairs back at Baron Kelvin's mansion was still fresh in his mind's eye. Keeping pace with him, Lizzie asked anxiously, “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

 

“If you really want to help, watch what I’m doing, and then do the same with girls in groups of four,” Ciel told her as they climbed up to the second floor and proceeded down the hall, passing Tanaka on the way; the elderly man's arms were piled so high with quilts from the linen closet that it was doubtful whether he could see over them.

 

Ciel advised Lizzie, "The best thing for the moment is to assume they have no minds of their own, and have to be told every little thing; their free will was entirely beaten out of them by their captor. I'm quite serious; you must tell them every little thing, including this," as he stopped to line them up outside the water-closet, and then pointed at the first in line. "You, get in there and tend to business."

 

The boy obediently walked into the lavatory, while Lizzie blushed and turned away to look at a hall painting. Ciel joined her in inspecting the painting for several seconds, but when the sounds that started coming from the lavatory weren't the ones he expected, he hesitatingly turned to peek through the slightly open door... and then buried his face in his hand and groaned through his fingers, "I didn't mean, start polishing the fixtures with the washing-cloth! I should have guessed by your clothes, you were on cleaning duties... Dammit, just sit on the loo and void your bladder and bowels! _Go_ _pee and poo;_ is _that_ plain enough?!" And with that he turned back around, ranting, "You see, Lizzie? Every little thing!"

 

But soon enough, he had all four boys through the water-closet and trooped them down to the last bedroom at the end of the hall. The room was freezing cold, having been shut up for the last few years, but that couldn't be helped at the moment, and Tanaka had already spread thick wool blankets on the bed; that would have to do until they could get the fireplaces stocked with coke fuel and burning to warm the rooms up. He'd have to order more coke immediately, as well as contact Abberline at Scotland Yard, and contact the managers of his Funtom Company to either delay or find a new venue for the board meeting he had scheduled for three days away (it would be impossible for them to meet here while the manor was so packed with refugees); one more thing to take care of in the morning, and the list in his head was already entirely too long...

 

"All right. All of you shake out your blankets, and drape them over yourselves like tents, to hold in the heat," Ciel ordered. And once the four boys had done that, he told them, "Now undress, down to your smallclothes. When you are done, wrap the blankets around yourselves. Leave the clothes on the floor, just this once." Sebastian would probably have fits later, when he found out that clothes had been strewn about so many rooms of the mansion, but Ciel simply couldn't find the energy to care; he just wanted to get this lot in bed as soon as possible, so he could start on the next.

 

Once all four boys were standing before him with their blankets wrapped about their shoulders, Ciel gave them their last orders: "Keep the blankets with you while you get into bed and under the covers; you two take the middle, you get the left side, and you're on the right side. No wiggling about once you're under the covers; at four to a bed, there's not a lot of room, but there'll be no shoving others out of bed.” Once they were all lying in bed, he told them firmly, “Now stay there until someone comes to fetch you in the morning! Someone will be along soon with some warm milk for a snack, but it's fine if you fall asleep while waiting for them; you’ll be woken up just long enough to get your share."

 

Once they were all in bed, he closed the door behind him and walked with Lizzie back to the great hall, to start the whole process over again with another group of boys. "I'll do just what you did, with girls in groups of four," Lizzie said quietly and with the most serious expression he had ever seen on her face, "but before I do, let me use the telephone in your study. I want to tell my parents what's happened, and ask them to send over as many servants as we can spare to help your people out while they’re all here. I don't mean to insult you or your staff, Ciel, because Sebastian is truly amazing, but caring for so many children... you're simply going to need more help. I'll also ask Mother to send over all of my and Edward's old clothes for the children to wear; she went through our wardrobes just last week and pulled out several items we'd outgrown, but I don't think they've been given away yet."

 

"I'm not insulted at all, and thank you for the offer," Ciel said just before he smothered another yawn with his hand. He was so _very_ tired now, having gotten up before dawn for breakfast duty back at the circus, but there were so many more children to deal with first...

 

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It had been a _long_ time since Bard had ridden a horse bareback, or ridden at night. But with close to a hundred kids suddenly showing up at the manor and in a helluva state, he wasn’t in the mood to slow down for niceties like saddles. Thankfully, there was a full moon lighting up the night, and the bay horse ‘Righty’ (named that by Finny because he was always hitched to the right side of the carriage) seemed to catch his mood and was not only agreeable to being ridden with nothing but a bridle and reins, but broke into a steady canter the second they were clear of the stables. Not nearly fast enough to take Bard’s mind off the sight he’d seen when he’d stepped briefly into the main hall before leaving (Christ, all those poor kids, their faces; no wonder the young master called ‘em half-dead!) but plenty fast for a cross-country ride at midnight.

 

In less than ten minutes he was hammering on the door to the dairy farmer’s cottage, bellowing, “Open up! Earl Phantomhive’s got an emergency!” It took too damn long for the farmer to get his arse out of bed and answer the door, and Bard was damn tempted to blow it open with the explosives he always kept handy, but he refrained—barely. Instead, the second the door opened he barked in the blinking man’s face, “The earl wants every damn cow you have milked _right now_ , and all the milk brought to the manor as fast as you can get it there!”

 

“What, _right now_? But it’s hours before milking time!” the famer protested. “Doesn’t the earl understand how much such a huge schedule change will upset the cattle?”

 

Bard growled back, “Do _you_ understand that right now the earl doesn’t give a shit for schedules?! Not when we just got _damn near_ _a hundred children_ brought into the manor, all of them rescued from some really nasty characters, and most of them looking _starved half to death_!”

 

The farmer stared at him in shock for a second. “Are you jo—”

 

“No, I’m **_not_** joking!” Bard snapped back at him before he could finish. “For Christ’s sake, who would joke about this?!”

 

The farmer spun around and shouted into the house, “Martha, wake the boys! And Nellie, too!” Less than ten minutes later the farmer, his wife, two strapping teenaged boys and a little ten-year-old girl were all heading out to the dairy barn with lanterns in hand and with their coats thrown on over their nightclothes.

 

Bard went with them and rolled up his sleeves, figuring that milking couldn’t be that hard. But after he told the farmer honestly that he’d never milked a cow before, the farmer asked him, “Will you give our Nellie a hand, then? The cows will take more kindly to people they know disturbing them at this hour, and Nellie knows all the equipment we use for collecting and carting the milk but she’s not strong enough to lift some of them yet.”

 

In short order Bard found himself taking instructions from a little girl half his size, and whose attitude flipped every few seconds between bossy and apologetic towards him; good thing he was already used to being ordered around by a kid. He paid close attention, and once he’d sussed out with her help how to wrangle all the equipment they used, he told her, “I can take it from here, if you can pitch in and help your folks with the milking; we've got lots of hungry kids to feed.”

 

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With nothing else she could do at the moment, Lizzie fretfully twiddled her fingers while she counted eleven rings before someone picked up the telephone at home. "Midford Hall," she heard in a deep male voice, one that sounded decidedly grumpy. "May I ask what is the _emergency_? Because surely it must be an emergency, to call at this hour..."

 

"It **_is_** an emergency, James," Lizzie fervently told the Midford family butler.

 

"Lady Lizzie?" James gasped. "What's happened—oh heavens, is Phantomhive Manor being attacked again?!"

 

"No, it's not that, but Earl Phantomhive needs our help! Go wake up Mama and Papa, James; I need to talk to them!"

 

"At once, my lady!" Lizzie heard him set the telephone receiver down, and the rapid beat of his footsteps running away.

 

Perhaps two minutes later, she heard a clicking sound and her Papa's voice saying urgently into what must have been the receiver in his study, "Lizzie, what's happened? Are you hurt? Is Ciel hurt?"

 

"We're not hurt, Papa, but Ciel needs our help! He just came back from some case he was on for Her Majesty, with dozens of children that he rescued—maybe a hundred of them! I couldn't count them all, there are so many—and there's something _so wrong_ with them; they're so—they're like _wooden dolls_ , their faces are so lifeless! They just sit there, or stand there, and they only—"

 

As she spoke, she heard a fast clatter of footsteps echoing down the line, and swift rustling and clunking sounds before her mother said urgently into the receiver outside the servants' quarters, "Elizabeth, what's happened? Who's hurt? James said you and Ciel need our help..."

 

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Having finished carrying all the children inside, Sebastian picked the grimiest-looking child and took him into the downstairs bath while Finnian went to get hot water from the kitchen. Coming back with two buckets of steaming hot water, the gardener told Sebastian, "When Bard left to wake up the farmer, he told me to tell you that he already added honey to the milk he put in a pot on the stove, so it would be ready to serve as soon as it was warmed up. I just felt the pot while I was in the kitchen, and it's nice and warm now; it looks like a whole gallon's worth, too, but I guess we'll need lots more than that. How many more buckets of hot water will we need?"

 

"You've brought enough for this bath, but we’ll need plenty more hot water throughout the night. Given the deplorable state of these children, we shall need to drain and change the bathwater for each one," Sebastian said grimly as he finished stripping the dirty clothes off the first boy, to reveal the skin underneath; not only was his skin just as filthy as the rags he'd been wearing, but it was riddled with sores, some of which began bleeding anew as the clothing that had been sticking to them was peeled away. "And we will likely need to bandage each of them as well; fetch me the first aid basket from under the sink in the master's bathing room. Then fetch the first aid basket that Bard keeps in the kitchen, and give it to Mey-Rin for her use."

 

Finny nodded and turned to leave, but Sebastian had more instructions for him; "And then go find Tanaka, and tell him that milk is ready for serving to the children already in bedrooms; I think it best that I remain on bathing duty. I have far more recent and frequent experience with bathing young boys, as part of waiting on the young master." And when no other servants were looking, he could change the water between each bath and dress the youngsters in borrowed clothes far faster than Tanaka could. Given that they had thirteen boys to bathe and clothe tonight, bursts of demonic speed were definitely called for.  

 

"Yessir!" as Finny ran off to fetch the first aid supplies, and relay his instructions to Tanaka.

 

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After he’d finished putting quilts and heavy blankets on all the beds in the west wing, Tanaka was heading for the downstairs bath to take over bathing the male children when he ran into Finnian, who advised him of Sebastian’s suggestion. Tanaka nodded his agreement with the idea, since in truth Sebastian did have more experience with bathing children than he, and then followed Finnian into the kitchen.

 

While the young gardener emptied two pots of water into his buckets and refilled them before putting the pots back on the stove, Tanaka took the pot of milk that had been slowly heating (on the stove’s lowest setting; goodness, Bard was actually capable of heating with something other than flamethrowers) poured milk into a row of teapots he’d lined up, and fetched a set of matching teacups from the cupboard. Mm, not the Wedgwood; plain china would do for serving tonight. Guests to the mansion always received the full measure of Phantomhive hospitality regardless of their station in life, but children weakened from exhaustion and deprivation would be prone to dropping and breaking the delicate wares.

 

His fingers lingered for a moment over a tin of digestive biscuits, before he shook his head. Most of the children would have to be served just warm milk with honey, as the young master had ordered. They did not have nearly enough biscuits on hand, including both plain digestive and the fancier shortbread, to feed all the children. And from what he’d seen of the poor creatures lined up in the grand hallway, it would be wise to save the few they had on hand tonight for those in the most desperate stages of starvation, which would likely be the ones who had reportedly been found locked in cages like animals.

 

Tanaka knew well the signs of starvation, from when he’d been a mere footman in the Phantomhive employ; he could still remember the gaunt faces and limbs of those desperate Irishmen who had come to London during the years of the Potato Famine, those who were too poor to afford passage for emigrating to America. He also remembered the faces of those that he had helped the young master’s grandfather free, while breaking up that child slavery ring back in 1853. He would look over the rows of children dressed in rags to determine the worst off of the lot, and slip them each a simple digestive biscuit to tide them over while waiting for more of the warm milk that Bard would be bringing soon.

 

Come the morrow, they would no doubt be very busy in the kitchen indeed, working to feed so many children. Tanaka might even have to _forego his_ **_tea_** in favor of preparing other hot beverages for their guests, a thought that made him blanch and shudder in anticipated horror. But the duty of a Phantomhive servant always came before personal comforts; he would bear up under the strain, just as he had done back in 1869 during that dreadful affair with the Red Nuns.

 

With the milk and tea service set on a trolley and a few items tucked into his pockets, he set out to distribute the sweetened milk they had on hand in the west wing, nodding in passing to the young master as the earl led a group of four children to the water-closet. “I take it Sebastian decided to stay on bathing duty?” the young master asked, and when Tanaka informed him he was correct, he muttered something under his breath before nodding to the teapots while asking, “How much do we have on hand?”

 

“Roughly three and a half quarts altogether, my lord,” Tanaka said with a bow. “But I am quite sure that Bardroy will be able to procure much more.”

 

“Right, then; give what we have now to the boys in the two bedrooms at the end of the hall. Two cups each or close enough,” the earl directed, with a glance at the six-ounce teacups Tanaka had set on the trolley. “After that, you can take over for me in putting children to bed.”

 

“Yes, my lord,” Tanaka said with a bow, and served the lads in the last two bedrooms as he’d been bidden. After all the milk had been served, he returned to the grand hall and took a few moments to inspect the children sitting or lying in rows, giving close inspection to the ones dressed in rags and filth that were lying instead of sitting. As he’d suspected, two of them were considerably worse off than the rest, perilously close to death from starvation. Perhaps because they had been captive longest, or perhaps they had refused to eat from despair, but the reason why scarcely mattered now.

 

Murmuring reassurances, he carefully propped them upright and hand-fed them each a plain digestive biscuit from the tin he’d tucked into a pocket, softened beforehand and washed down after with water from the hip flask he’d tucked into another pocket. There, that small bit of food should begin the process of restarting their failing digestive systems, and should keep them from passing on for at least the next few hours.

 

The young master came back for another group of boys just as he finished feeding the second child and laid her back down. The master frowned and furrowed his brow at Tanaka for a moment, before opening his eyes wide in realization. “They were that close?” was all he asked.

 

“Indeed, young master,” Tanaka said as he rose to his feet and bowed. “But now they should survive long enough to be tended in their turn with the rest. However, we shall have to take considerable care with their diet over the next few days; only one small cupful of milk to start with, followed by another in a few hours only if they can keep the first cup down.”

 

The young master nodded his gratitude, before turning to frown at Finnian as the lad rushed up to them with empty buckets in hand and his features creased in worry. “Master? I’m very sorry to bother you, but Sebastian’s already busy with bathing the boys, and I think Mey-Rin’s having problems…”  

 

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Ohhh, this was dreadful! The young master was counting on her, and these poor little girls _needed_ her help, but Mey-Rin _couldn’t see_! The steam from the bathwater kept fogging up her glasses; she kept pausing to wipe them off so she could work, but it only took seconds for the lenses to fog up again. But if she just left them off, then all she saw with her terrible farsightedness was a flesh-colored blur on white instead of a little girl in a bathtub… how could she properly clean these children and bandage them, if she couldn’t _see_ the grime and the sores that needed tending?! Whimpering under her breath, Mey-Rin told herself this was absolutely _not_ the time to burst into tears of worry and frustration; that would only make her vision worse…

 

“It will be all right, Mey-Rin,” she heard Tanaka say soothingly from off to her right, and then his silver-and-black blur stood next to her, nudging her more towards the head of the tub. “Here, give me the sponge; I can bathe and tend to these young girls, if you will remain as chaperone.”

 

Mey-Rin gratefully passed the sponge and soap over to Tanaka, and when he made a suggestion and put the shampoo bottle in her hand, she washed the child’s long brown hair while he bathed the rest of her. Washing hair was easy; she was used to doing that on herself and didn’t need eyes for it, just her sense of touch. Oh dear, this girl had dreadful tangles matting up her hair; it would take some time and care to comb them out…

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

An hour after they’d started work at the dairy farm, Bard helped the farmer Josiah Vale and his sons load the last of the five-gallon canisters of milk onto their wagon, while the farmer’s wife Martha hitched their donkey to the cart, and their little girl Nellie came running out of the house with extra blankets for the farmer to bundle up in, as they were all still wearing nightclothes.

 

“Gee up, Jenny! There’s hungry kids waiting for this!” Josiah barked as he slapped the reins, and the donkey grunted as she began pulling the wagon. As Bard hopped back onto Righty to ride alongside, the oldest son Dan worried aloud, “But Da, what if bandits are out tonight? Remember, we heard that the baker’s family got robbed on the road just last week!”

 

“Any bandits we see tonight, ain’t gonna live to rob anybody else,” Bard grimly promised the teen, whose eyes went wide as Bard briefly showed him one of the guns he was carrying. “Right now that milk’s more precious than gold to the earl and those kids. But thanks for speaking up about the bandits; we hadn’t heard there were any in the area recently. I’ll let the earl know, and we’ll see about doing something about them once the kids are all taken care of and back with their folks; Earl Phantomhive doesn’t stand for any of that on his lands.”

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Finny finished bringing Sebastian and Mey-Rin the hot water for another set of baths, and returned to the kitchen with empty pails just as Bard came in from outside, lugging a big steel container with handles on it. “Here, give a hand hauling the rest in, so the farmer can go home,” Bard grunted.

 

Finnian dashed out and picked up the other three containers all at once, with two hanging from the fingers of his left hand; the nice dairy farmer who’d brought the milk gaped at him for a moment before blinking, shaking his head a little and getting back into the seat of his cart to go home. Finny didn’t mind the stare (much), he was used to people being surprised by his strength.

 

After going inside with the milk, Finny told Bard what everyone was doing now as the chef poured some of the milk into two of the water pails, since those were easier for normal people to carry, and stirred in lots of honey. When they went into the great hall, the young master looked up from where he was just gathering another group of four boys and grumbled, "It's about time! How much did you bring?"

 

"Just under eighteen gallons, your lordship. The farmer said that they can give you just as much and at least six gallons more for the evening milking, and the same again tomorrow morning," Bard added.

 

"That's enough for two teacupfuls per child tonight, with… ten gallons left—no, eleven, Tanaka already took care of some of the boys—eleven gallons left over serving with breakfast and for cooking tomorrow's meals," the young master muttered while rubbing tiredly at his face. Then he seemed to catch himself and straightened up while ordering, "Here, give these four their supper before bed, two cups each."

 

Finny and Bard each filled teacups for handing to the silent children, while the master continued, "All the children, both down here and already abed, will get the same amount. Bard, take care of the children still in the hall, and then you'll be hauling water for the baths while Finny makes the rounds of the bedrooms. Also, ask Tanaka to step out here long enough to identify the two children that should receive only half as much, because they've been starved too long and their stomachs will reject too much food, even if it's just milk."

 

"You want _me_ to give milk to the children in bedrooms?" Finny asked, surprised that the master had that much trust in him. He was always breaking things on the grounds outside, because he didn't know his own strength—and all these poor children looked so _fragile_ , so easy to break!

 

"You carried them inside the house without breaking any of them, didn't you?" Master demanded. And when Finny said he was right, he nodded while saying firmly, "You can feed them milk without hurting them either. These days you mainly break things when you get too happy or excited and forget yourself. Well, _nobody'_ s happy about this turn of events, and there's nothing exciting about serving milk. Now in the west wing, start with the second bedroom from the end on either side; Tanaka already fed the boys in the last bedrooms. Wake them up if they've fallen asleep while waiting, but don't let them get out of bed for supper, either; understand? You'll have to be careful to not let the milk spill, but just this once, they're allowed to dine in bed; it's better than letting them get chilled while standing about in unheated bedrooms."

 

Finny said he understood, and after helping Bard feed the first four boys and seeing how it should be done, he carried a pail, a dipper and a teacup with him up the stairs. The master trailed behind him with the four boys in tow while muttering under his breath, something about a dairy budget. Finny felt a little sorry for the young master, who looked so very tired now; when he himself was tired, thinking was really hard, but right now the master had to do _so much_ thinking...

 

Finny was very, very careful as he opened the door and didn't quite tiptoe into each bedroom, roused each group of children with his very gentlest shakes and taps, and helped them sit up in bed long enough to drink the milk he'd brought, filling the teacup twice for each of them. He was really worried about spilling the milk, because it had taken him a long time to learn to eat and drink without making a mess. But all these children must have had teachers just as good as Mr. Sebastian, because none of them spilled even a single drop.

 

When each bedroom full of children had had their supper of sweetened milk, Finny very carefully tucked them into bed again, using the same words that Mr. Sebastian had told him after giving him his very own bed in the servants' quarters. "Now you go to sleep, and stay under the covers until I come for—I mean, until someone comes for you in the morning."

 

And then, because these children had probably come from families instead of from laboratories and Finny remembered one of the children's books he'd been given explaining what normal families did at bedtime, he sang a lullaby before leaving each bedroom. Finny knew, because Bard had explained it to him the first time he'd seen the word, that a lullaby was a special song that was sung to help children go to sleep. But he didn't know any of those special songs; nobody had ever sung him a lullaby before. So he improvised, saying in a singsong as he turned the lights back off, "Go to slee-eep, you're all safe now. Go to slee-eep, things will be better now..."

 

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

 

Sebastian had already bathed, bandaged and dressed nine children in borrowed clothes, and was still washing the hair of the tenth when Bard came into the bathroom where he was working, carrying a nearly emptied pail of milk, a dipper and a plain servant’s teacup. "Supper's served," he announced with an attempt at humor, though the grim expression on his face ruined the effect. "I already gave some to each kid still in the hall. Finny's making the rounds of the kids already in bedrooms."

 

Sebastian looked at him sharply at the last sentence. "What is Tanaka doing now, if not serving milk?" Soon after they’d begun their contract, when the master had brought Tanaka home from the Royal Hospital, he’d made it clear that Tanaka was on the books as a steward but unofficially retired, and no one except the master himself could order him to do anything. But immediately afterwards, Tanaka had quietly assured Sebastian that when situations were particularly tense or urgent, the former butler would pitch in with no need for orders and give his best effort right along with everyone else.

 

"He's helping Mey-Rin give baths to the girls that need 'em; told Finny that he's too old to care even if they were prime beauties in perfect health, and right now I don't think the girls are gonna complain either." Bard shrugged. "Finny said he heard Mey-Rin fretting that her glasses keep fogging up on her, and if she takes them off she can't see what she's doing either."

 

Sebastian gave a small frown and shook his head as he commented mostly to himself, "I should have realized that at the start." Mey-Rin had been hired on _his_ recommendation, and he knew of her eyesight issues better than anyone. For the first time in a very long time, the question was _not_ rhetorical but self-castigating: how could he be the Phantomhive butler, if he didn't anticipate and compensate for the other servants' human shortcomings in a situation like this?

 

"Hey, nobody can think of everything all the time," Bard said with another shrug, as he set down the pail and used the dipper to fill the teacup with warm milk. Sebastian held the boy he'd been washing upright and steady as Bard carefully brought the cup to his lips, crooning, "Come on, suppertime... this is fresh from the cow, and sweetened with honey; can't get better than that! Good stuff, right? Let's put some meat back on those ribs..."

 

After the still-nameless boy drank two teacups of warm sweetened milk, Bard set the cup and pail down and rolled up his sleeves. "His lordship put me to hauling water for baths, but that leaves me some time to spare. How about I take over washing kids for you, so you can take over for the young master? You know I've got experience with bandaging too, and it looked to me like he's just about sleepwalking now; don't reckon he had any sleep at all before you came here with the kids."

 

"No, he had not. Thank you, Bard," Sebastian said as he stood up and dried his hands. As he rolled down his sleeves and put his tailcoat back on, he almost commented on how surprisingly competent the soldier-turned-chef was being tonight, but refrained at the last second. Instead he picked up the pail of warm sweetened milk and took it to the kitchen, to be poured into a more appropriate container for serving the earl.

 

When he found his young master, who was indeed stumbling with fatigue, the little earl still stubbornly insisted on seeing through his self-appointed task of putting the current group of four boys to bed. But the very moment those four were under the covers and the light in their room put out, he turned to Sebastian and all but fell into his arms. "Bed," was all he mumbled, but that was command enough for them both.

 

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian said, and then carried the young master to his bedroom, aware that he must make quite a sight; it was not unheard of for servants to carry tired children to bed, but one did not normally do so while balancing a loaded tea tray on one's head. Under the circumstances, however, exceptions had to be allowed. Indeed, they passed Finnian coming out of another bedroom with a milk pail and teacup, and all the gardener did was nod a drowsy greeting to them without even blinking at Sebastian's unusual chapeau.

 

Once in the master's bedroom, he set down first Ciel and then the tea tray, and gave the boy a cupful of warm sweetened milk to drink while he swiftly and skillfully divested him of all his clothes and got him ready for bed. Ciel barely seemed to notice, his eyes fixed either on the teacup or on nothing at all, automatically switching his grip on the cup from one hand to the other as Sebastian gently tugged his jacket and shirt off of him and slipped his nightshirt on.

 

Sebastian said as he deftly buttoned the nightshirt, snaking his fingers up between the boy and the teacup, "I do apologize for not drawing you a bath before bed, my lord, but under the circumstances..." The young master made only a grunt of acknowledgment in response before draining the last of the warm sweetened milk, handing the now-empty cup back to the butler and turning to gracelessly flop into bed. With an affectionate _tsk_ at his lack of manners, Sebastian tucked him in properly and bowed himself out of the room, aware that the young earl had fallen into dreamless sleep even before the light had been put out.

 

Next Sebastian tracked down Lady Elizabeth, who was also quite tired from lack of sleep... and at first just as determined to see to the finish the task her fiancé had asked of her, that of putting all the female children to bed. He very gently rebuked her with, "But my lady, to see you doing the duties of a servant, when a servant stands here ready for orders; surely your mother the Marchioness would not approve."

 

"But it's not proper for a _man_ to put girls to bed," Lizzie said stubbornly, before covering a yawn with her hand.

 

Sebastian gestured to the current group of four girls who were crawling into bed as he said persuasively, "When the girls in question are keeping themselves well-covered with blankets, my lady, surely that satisfies propriety."

 

"Welll..." Lizzie almost visibly wavered before finally giving in. "All right; there are only a few more girls left anyway, and two of them still need Mey-Rin to give them baths first."

 

"Quite so, my lady. Do allow me to escort you to your room and serve you a nightcap of warm sweetened milk."

 

As he walked her back to her guest bedroom, Lizzie said between yawns, "Sebastian, my parents will send over some of our servants in the morning, to help out for the next few days that all these children are here. And Mama said she'd have some more clothes brought over, too."

 

"They will all be most welcome," was all Sebastian said in response. After they reached her guest room, he served Lizzie some warm sweetened milk before bidding her good night and returning to the great hall, where more children awaited.

As he trotted down the grand staircase, he met Finnian coming back down with an empty pail and a tired but pleased expression. "All the children have been given warm milk, Mr. Sebastian. And I only spilled one time, and it was just a few drops!"

 

"Well done then, Finnian," and Sebastian was mildly surprised to find that the praise was actually sincere, and not the near-meaningless flattery he occasionally doled out to the boy and to Mey-Rin to get them to stop weeping or howling about their inadequacies. The task of dispensing warm beverages to dozens of children, when Finnian himself was operating on less than adequate sleep, must have taken prolonged concentration on the boy's part. To complete the task with only one minor spill was far better than Sebastian would have expected of him; really, nearly the entire staff was being far more competent than usual tonight. "Now do resume hauling hot water for baths, while I take care of putting the remaining children to bed."

 

He put two more groups of boys to bed, and then the last group of four girls after Mey-Rin and Tanaka had finished bathing and dressing them (three of them in clothes borrowed from the young master’s closets, after they had completely exhausted Lady Elizabeth’s travel trunk.) Rather than stand in the bedroom giving directions, he undressed them himself and re-wrapped them in blankets at his top speed, which was considerably faster than any of the children could have managed. Lady Elizabeth would have protested if she'd known, but as Bard had pointed out, the girls were really not in any state to complain about his methods, particularly since it got them under the covers faster.

 

The last girl he put to bed didn't need to be undressed, since all she had on her was Lady Elizabeth's spare nightgown; a blue flannel affair with many colorful butterflies printed on the fabric. But since it suited his butler aesthetics to spend an equal amount of time with each child, he produced a small hairbrush from a pocket and spent a few seconds brushing the child's hair before tucking her in with the others already in bed.

 

The girl gave him a weak but clearly grateful smile, and whispered "Thank you." When she spoke, Sebastian abruptly recognized her; this was the same girl who had said "Please" to the young master a few hours ago, back in Baron Kelvin's mansion.  

 

He smiled back at her, approving of her good manners; he neither needed nor asked for expressions of gratitude for doing his duties for the young master (which was just as well, because the earl hardly ever said them), but he did appreciate them when they were given sincerely. "You are quite welcome. Now sleep, child; you're safe here." After she'd obediently closed her eyes, he put out the light and returned downstairs.

 

Returning to the baths, he took over for Bard so the chef could go to sleep, and sent Finny tottering off to bed as well once he'd brought the hot water for the final bath. After the last group of three boys had all been bathed, bandaged and dressed in clothes borrowed from the master's closet, he led them all through the bedtime routine and tucked them in. Checking his pocket watch, he frowned at the time it displayed; well past four o'clock in the morning. But now that everyone was asleep, he could stop acting quite so human and be more _efficient_.

 

The master had given him permission to use his full abilities 'just this one time', and Sebastian chose to interpret 'this one time' to refer to this entire, unprecedented and still ongoing situation. Lady Elizabeth had informed him that members of the Marquis Midford's serving staff were coming on the morrow, and while he would admit that more people would be needed to properly tend so many children, he **_would not_** have the Marchioness Midford or anyone else thinking that more servants were needed to tend to the estate itself; the Phantomhive reputation was at stake.

 

First, stocking the pantry and larder. He went downstairs to the kitchen and storerooms, and swept a hand over the shelves as he summoned and bent _aether_ to his supernatural will. In short order every shelf was laden to the groaning point with sacks of flour and other baking essentials, jars of honey and preserved fruits and vegetables, and dozens of cured hams and smoked fishes. Then he restocked the root cellar in seconds with plenty of potatoes, onions, turnips and the like, and after a moment's thought he conjured four bulging sacks full of lemons, limes and oranges from the Americas; good for treating scurvy, which he'd seen signs of in nearly all the boys he'd bathed.

 

As a final touch, he left two haunches of venison and an entire side of beef hanging in the chilled air of the meat-smoking shed. Sebastian made a note to advise his young master of the full restocking, to give the earl time to come up with a plausible lie if anyone should ask how they’d acquired so much on such short notice. Perhaps the master could say that they’d raided the baron’s mansion for supplies as well as children, before burning it to ashes.

 

Now, the fuel for heating. He stocked the coal cellar to the brim with high-quality coke, before stepping into a shadow—and stepping out again in the east wing's furthest guest room. Traveling through shadows eliminated the possibility of children being awakened by the creaking of little-used doors opening and closing.

 

In that first guest room as in all the other rooms occupied by the recently freed children, he silently created a suitable supply of coke in each fireplace, set it ablaze with a gesture, and put the steadily burning results behind a metal screen that would both block the light from sleeping eyes and prevent stray embers from setting the floor or throw rugs alight. And before leaving each room he took an instant to neatly fold all the clothing that had been discarded for sleep, and set each tidy little pile at the foot of the bed.

 

Now, the general tidying up. After dropping the corpse back through the broken window in the hallway by Lady Elizabeth’s guest room, Tanaka had tacked a thick wool blanket over the shattered glass; now Sebastian converted the blanket into new glass for the window, and made the bloodstains on the hall floor vanish. Then he rebuilt the damaged grand staircase, replaced the statues Finny had tossed as ammunition (except for the bust of Aristotle; the master had mentioned before that he didn’t like the looks of that one), and swept the floor clear of even the smallest speck of rubble.

 

That took care of the interior; time to deal with the house exterior and grounds, with maximum efficiency. Dropping his corporeal form entirely, the demon swept over the outside of the mansion in seconds, searching out every bullet hole and cracked surface remaining from Mey-Rin and Finnian’s battles and seamlessly filling them in.

 

After finishing the mansion's exterior, he fetched back the bodies of the three performers that had been killed, and he instantly shredded them into bloody fertilizer, which was mixed into the root soil for the new trees he set in place of the ones that Finnian had knocked down. Only Finnian would be apt to notice the replacements, but Sebastian had schooled that one well, and knew he would say nothing to anyone. As an afterthought, he put the leftover fertilizer into the flowerbeds for the master's prized white and Sterling roses; they would surely benefit from the bloodmeal as well.

 

And one more errand: flitting across the countryside and into the heart of London, Sebastian retrieved the master's violin from the townhouse. Once the children were awake, he was sure they'd be far too busy at the manor for carriage rides to the city for quite some time, but the young master would need his violin to keep up his lessons. As an afterthought, he picked up the box of marbles as well; he was rather sure that the master would agree that they now had a far more destitute group of children on hand to give the marbles to.

 

After returning to the manor and to corporeal form, Sebastian took a moment to haul the large hay wagon he'd created around to the back of the barn on the off chance that it would be needed again for transportation while the children were here, though they would need every coach horse in the stable to pull it when filled to capacity. He checked his pocket watch again as he returned inside, and nodded to himself in satisfaction. Not quite 5:00 a.m.; he still had time for one last task before going to the kitchen to start the day’s baking.

 

Trotting down to the wine cellar with lantern in hand, he checked in on the three circus performers he'd stashed down there until the young master had time to decide what would ultimately be done with them. Still tied up and gagged, they'd gone so far as to wriggle towards each other, and Dagger and Beast were currently lying in awkward back-to-back positions, trying to undo each other's bonds. He _tsked_ at their lack of imagination before he advised them, "If you'd thought to work to loosen on each others' gags first, one of you could have then used your teeth to begin chewing through the ropes. Not that you likely would have succeeded with that either before I arrived to put a stop to it. But you'll be free of those bonds soon enough, now that I finally have a little time to provide you with more suitableaccommodations. If you'll excuse me," as he stepped past them and around a corner of the cellar to where the racks of champagne were resting, well out of sight of the trio.

 

He created and then dragged out of that corner, one or two sections at a time, the walls of an iron cage that was just the same size as the cages that he'd pulled twenty-two children out of a few hours ago. It was but the work of moments to bolt everything together, and then he ripped the bonds and gags off the prisoners even while tossing them into the cage one-two-three. Lunging as best he could on just one leg, Dagger tried to scramble out but just got the cage door slammed in his face as Sebastian locked them in. "Bastard! Treating us like animals, after we took you and Smile in as friends!" the boy shouted while grabbing at his now bloodied nose.

 

"On the contrary, it is not my intention to treat you as animals. You are being treated just as the children that we rescued tonight were treated by your patron," Sebastian informed him pleasantly. "I did say _suitable accommodations_ , did I not? It seems quite suitable, for you to be treated in the same fashion as the children you kidnapped." He would have to inquire from the master later as to how they should be fed as well as how often. Given the signs of scurvy and general malnutrition he’d already seen in the children, he suspected the usual diet consisted of one meal of gruel per day, but how should it be administered? He rather doubted decent china dishware and silverware were involved.

 

The cage was far too small for any of the three to stand up in; they ended up sitting on the cold metal floor, lined up in a row and glaring out at him as he tidied up their torn bonds and the hand tools he'd created and used for bolting the cage together. Beast growled, "You could at least give us back our prosthetics!"

 

"Ah, yes, the prosthetic limbs that the late Doctor provided for you," Sebastian said as he walked over to the heap of prosthetics he'd left by the base of the stairs.

 

"The late... ye _killed_ him?!" Joker cried out in outrage, lunging forward to grip one of the bars of the cage with his remaining hand. "Ye soulless bastard, how could ye?! Th'doctor was a **_good_** man! He had nothin' t'do wi' the kidnappings; he wouldna' harm a fly!"

 

That got Sebastian to turn and blink at him in surprise. "You really didn't know? He duped the lot of you?" He chuckled as he held up Beast's leg, admiring the handiwork by the lantern's light. "Liars who've been lied to; my, that is amusing!"

 

"What're ye talking about?!" Joker demanded.

 

"Why, I'm talking about the use that 'good man' made of the children you brought to the baron's mansion. The 'special ceramic' that your artificial limbs are made out of? Were you really entirely unaware of what made them so special?" as he tapped the limb with a gloved finger. On a whim, he inhaled deeply, to see how much of a scent of the original person or persons remained. Ah, yes; when it had been attached to Beast, her scent had overwhelmed everything else, but now he could ever-so-faintly detect traces of the bones used in its composition. A male child had gone into this limb's making... no, make that two different children.

 

He told the three performers what their doctor had said and done right in front of his and his master's eyes back at Baron Kelvin's manor, savoring the looks of growing horror on their faces. He'd grown to enjoy playing the perfect butler, but he could not deny that it was also enjoyable to be a source of horror now and then; quite refreshing, really.

 

"N-no! It's all a lie! You're lying!" Dagger screamed, his face gone completely white.

 

" _I don't tell lies_ ," Sebastian informed him rather frostily. In point of fact, he _couldn't_ tell lies, as that was one of the restrictions his master had set when they'd formed the contract. And dealing with that restriction, one of the more challenging aspects of this contract, was part of what made it the most interesting contract he'd ever had. He admitted to the prisoners, "I will occasionally prevaricate, mislead or misdirect. But every word that comes out of my mouth is indeed true!"

 

He tossed the prosthetic limbs into the cage at their feet with a genial, "Here, by all means, re-equip yourselves with the remains of some of the children you once kidnapped." But the performers shied away from the limbs as if they were poisonous serpents, instead of scrambling to put them on. Sebastian left them there as he turned to head back up the stairs, consulting his pocket watch again. Hmm, he'd best get started baking the day's bread; they would need quite a few loaves to feed so many...

 

"Wait!" Joker cried out suddenly. "We've more to tell ye; more that ye an' Smile need to know about!"

 

Sebastian turned to him with a dash of impatience. "Such as...? I can spare you exactly one more minute, so whatever information you have, say it quickly."  

 

"There be more children involved than ye know about; th' children at Renbon Workhouse! Th'baron owns th' workhouse, he's patron of all the children there, our lil' brothers 'n' sisters! 'Tis why we did as Father wanted, kidnapping other children for him; he tol' us if we didn't, he'd cut the workhouse off an' let them all _starve_ t'death!" All three prisoners stared up at him imploringly as Joker begged, "Ye can hang _us_ , aye, we deserve it an' we know it, but they's innocent children too; don't let them starve!"

 

"I shall inform the master when there is time for him to deal with them, after we have properly dealt with the children we have just rescued," Sebastian informed them, before proceeding up the stairs to the kitchen. He estimated that they would need at least sixteen loaves of bread for the morrow—ah, no, Lady Elizabeth said that the Midfords would be sending staff over to assist in caring for the children; make that eighteen loaves of bread, to feed the adults as well... He'd best bake a full twenty loaves, to be on the safe side.

 

Once the first batch of bread was baking in the oven, Sebastian loaded the stove with pots of water for preparing porridge. But he paused just before lighting the burners, when his supernaturally sharp hearing caught a sound from outside; someone approaching the manor, riding a horse at a fast canter. And the sun wasn't even up yet; who could it be at this hour?

 

_Next: The Cavalry, Or...?_


End file.
